Trust poems

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Snow

© John Davidson

'Who affirms that crystals are alive?'
I affirm it, let who will deny:
Crystals are engendered, wax and thrive,
Wane and wither; I have seen them die.

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 07

© William Langland

Treuthe herde telle herof, and to Piers sente
To taken his teme and tilien the erthe,
And purchaced hym a pardoun a pena et a culpa
For hym and for hyse heirs for ever oore after-

A Defence Of English Spring

© Alfred Austin

Unnamed, unknown, but surely bred

Where Thames, once silver, now runs lead,

The Well of Loch Maree

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Calm on the breast of Loch Maree
A little isle reposes;
A shadow woven of the oak
And willow o'er it closes.

The Cross-Roads

© Henry Lawson

Once more I write a line to you,

While darker shadows fall;

Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 07 - Beginnings Of Civilization

© Lucretius

Afterwards,
When huts they had procured and pelts and fire,
And when the woman, joined unto the man,
Withdrew with him into one dwelling place,

Vows

© Ada Cambridge

Nay, ask me not. I would not dare pretend

To constant passion and a life-long trust.

4:02 p.m.

© Suheir Hammad

poem supposed to be about
one minute and the lives of three women in it
writing it and up
the block a woman killed
by her husband

Love's Ordeal

© George MacDonald

In a lovely garden walking
Two lovers went hand in hand;
Two wan, worn figures, talking
They sat in the flowery land.

An Old Twenty-Third Man

© Robert Graves

Is that the Three-and-Twentieth, Strabo mine,
Marching below, and we still gulping wine?
From the sad magic of his fragrant cup
The red-faced old centurion started up,

Lay not reproach at the drunkard's door

© Shams al-Din Hafiz

LAY not reproach at the drunkard's door
Oh Fanatic, thou that art pure of soul;
Not thine on the page of life to enrol
The faults of others! Or less or more

My Darling Dear, My Daisy Flower

© John Skelton

WITH lullay, lullay, like a child,

Thou sleepèst too long, thou art beguiled!

SCENE I.
[A place not far from the summit of Mount Psiloriti, in the Isle of Candia. Philota discovered with a basket of grapes upon her head; she looks eagerly upward. Time, a little before sunset.]
PHILOTA.

Forgotten

FORGOTTEN! Can it be a few swift rounds
Of Time's great chariot wheels have crushed to naught
The memory of those fearful sights and sounds,
With speechless misery fraught--
Wherethro' we hope to gain the Hesperian height,
Where Freedom smiles in light?

Wild Strawberries

Strawberries that in gardens grow
Are plump and juicy fine,
But sweeter far as wise men know
Spring from the woodland vine.

In Broken Images

He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images.He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images.Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact;