Poems begining by V
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Verses III
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Written by the same lady on seeing her two sons
at play.
SWEET age of bless'd delusion! blooming boys,
Ah! revel long in childhood's thoughtless joys,
With light and pliant spirits, that can stoop
To follow, sportively, the rolling hoop;
Vêtements monolectiques
© Dimitris P. Kraniotis
Des vagues daccents circonflexes,
une mer fâchée dadverbes,
des moulins de verbes,
des coquillages de points de suspensions,
Vesta
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O CHRIST of God! whose life and death
Our own have reconciled,
Most quietly, most tenderly
Take home thy star-named child!
Villanelle
© Donald Hall
Katie could put her feet behind her head
Or do a grand plié, position two,
Her suppleness magnificent in bed.
Visions for the Entertainment and Instruction of Younger Minds: Happiness
© Nathaniel Cotton
Ye ductile youths, whose rising sun
Hath many circles still to run;
Vitrail
© Laurent Tailhade
Un soir de flamme et d'or hante la basilique,
Ravivant les émaux ternis et les couleurs
Ancestrales de l'édifice catholique.
Venus' Runaway
© Benjamin Jonson
Beauties, have ye seen this toy,
Called Love, a little boy,
Almost naked, wanton, blind;
Cruel now, and then as kind?
If he be amongst ye, say?
He is Venus' runaway.
Voices at the Window
© Sir Philip Sidney
Who is it that, this dark night,
Underneath my window plaineth?
It is one who from thy sight
Being, ah, exiled, disdaineth
Every other vulgar light.
Venetian Life
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
The meaning of somber and barren
Venetian life is clear to me:
Now she looks into a decrepit blue glass
With a cool smile.
Vespers
© Louise Gluck
In your extended absence, you permit me
use of earth, anticipating
some return on investment. I must report
failure in my assignment, principally
Villanelle At Sundown
© Donald Justice
Turn your head. Look. The light is turning yellow.
The river seems enriched thereby, not to say deepened.
Why this is, I'll never be able to tell you.
Visiting a Dead Man on a Summer Day
© Marge Piercy
But the Getty tomb: white, snow patterned
in a triangle of trees swims dappled with leaf shadow,
sketched light arch within arch
delicate as fingernail moons.
Voyages
© Philip Levine
Pond snipe, bleached pine, rue weed, wart --
I walk by sedge and brown river rot
to where the old lake boats went daily out.
All the ships are gone, the gray wharf fallen
Vanity (I)
© George Herbert
The fleet astronomer can bore
And thread the spheres with his quick-piercing mind:
He views theirs stations, walks from door to door,
Surveys, as if he had designed
Virtue
© George Herbert
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall tonight;
For thou must die.
Voices in the Night
© Joseph Mayo Wristen
I am the Raven
con of the world
spirit of blood and mire;
signal to the death,
the awakening before the coming.
Vehicles
© William Stanley Merwin
This is a place on the way after the distances
can no longer be kept straight here in this dark corner
of the barn a mound of wheels has convened along
raveling courses to stop in a single moment
Verses from the Shepherds' Hymn
© Richard Crashaw
WE saw Thee in Thy balmy nest,
Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw Thine eyes break from the East,
And chase the trembling shades away:
We saw Thee, and we blest the sight,
We saw Thee by Thine own sweet light.
