Trust poems
/ page 4 of 157 /The Sea Change
© Rowley Rosemarie
Lost in the crenellations of the sea waveA shell, a limpet, hugs the graining sandPassive, quiet, with bent and covered head,Enduring all. Beneath the tough rim, blind.
Flight into Reality
© Rowley Rosemarie
Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury
O Earth, Sufficing All our Needs
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
O earth, sufficing all our needs, O youWith room for body and for spirit too, How patient while your children vex their soulsDevising alien heavens beyond your blue!
Canada
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
O Child of Nations, giant-limbed, Who stand'st among the nations nowUnheeded, unadored, unhymned, With unanointed brow, --
As You Came from the Holy Land (attributed)
© Ralegh Sir Walter
As you came from the holy land Of Walsingham,Met you not with my true love By the way as you came?
A Satire, in Imitation of the Third of Juvenal
© John Oldham
Though much concern'd to leave my dear old friend,I must however his design commendOf fixing in the country: for were IAs free to choose my residence, as he;The Peak, the Fens, the Hundreds, or Land's End,I would prefer to Fleet Street, or the Strand
On our Thirty-ninth Wedding-day, 6th of May, 1810
© Odell Jonathan
Twice nineteen years, dear Nancy, on this dayComplete their circle, since the smiling MayBeheld us at the altar kneel and joinIn holy rites and vows, which made thee mine
Darwin
© Robert Norwood
Eternal night and solitude of space;Breath as of vapour crimsoning to flame;Far constellations moving in the sameInvariable order and the paceThat times the sun, or earth's elliptic raceAmong the planets: Life--dumb, blind and lame--Creeping from form to form, until her shameBlends with the beauty of a human face!
Death can not claim what Life so hardly wonOut of her ancient warfare with the Void--O Man! whose day is only now begun,Go forth with her and do what she hath done;Till thy last enemy--Death--be destroyed,And earth outshine the splendour of the sun
The Dean’s Provocation for Writing the Dressing-Room
© Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
The Doctor, in a clean starch'd band,His golden snuff box in his hand,With care his diamond ring displays,And artful shows its various Rays;While grave he stalks down -- StreetHis dearest -- to meet
Lovers in a London Shadow
© Harold Monro
You two, who woo, take record of to-night;(This corner, that arc-light):For you may never feel againSuch joyful pain.
Sonnet XXIII: Methought I Saw my Late Espoused Saint
© John Milton
Methought I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, Rescu'd from death by force, though pale and faint