Poems begining by W
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Watching Unto God In The Night Season
© William Cowper
Sleep at last has fled these eyes,
Nor do I regret his flight,
More alert my spirits rise,
And my heart is free and light.
Wont And Done.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I then was the servant of
all:
By this creature so charming I now am fast bound,
To love and love's guerdon she turns all around,
Warning.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WAKEN not Amor from sleep! The beauteous urchin still slumbers;
Water-bailing
© Ho Xuan Huong
Not a drop of rain for this dry heat!
Come, girls, let's go bail water.
What Matters It?
© George Frederick Cameron
What matters it the spot we fill
On Earth's green sod when all is said?
When feet and hands and heart are still
And all our pulses quieted?
When hate or love can kill nor thrill,
When we are done with life and dead?
When The Fox Dies, His Skin Counts.*
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(* The name of a game, known in English as "Jack's
alight.")WE young people in the shadeSat one sultry day;
Cupid came, and "Dies the Fox"With us sought to play.Each one of my friends then satBy his mistress dear;
Cupid, blowing out the torch,Said: "The taper's here!"Then we quickly sent aroundThe expiring brand;
With A Painted Ribbon.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
LITTLE leaves and flow'rets too,Scatter we with gentle hand,
Kind young spring-gods to the view,Sporting on an airy band.Zephyr, bear it on the wing,Twine it round my loved one's dress;
To her glass then let her spring,Full of eager joyousness.Roses round her let her see,She herself a youthful rose.
Grant, dear life, one look to me!'Twill repay me all my woes,What this bosom feels, feel thou.Freely offer me thy hand;
With A Golden Necklace.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THIS page a chain to bring thee burns,That, train'd to suppleness of old,
On thy fair neck to nestle, yearns,In many a hundred little fold.To please the silly thing consent!'Tis harmless, and from boldness free;
By day a trifling ornament,At night 'tis cast aside by thee.But if the chain they bring thee ever,Heavier, more fraught with weal or woe,
I'd then, Lisette, reproach thee neverIf thou shouldst greater scruples show.1775.*
When Nobody Listens
© Franklin Pierce Adams
_At not at all infrequent spells
I hear--and so do you--
The tales that everybody tells
And no one listens to._
Wedding Song.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
His grandson of whom we are telling.
The Count as Crusader had blazon'd his fame,
Through many a triumph exalted his name,
And when on his steed to his dwelling he came,
Welcome And Farewell.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Another of the love-songs addressed to Frederica.]
QUICK throbb'd my heart: to norse! haste, haste,And lo! 'twas done with speed of light;
The evening soon the world embraced,And o'er the mountains hung the night.
Soon stood, in robe of mist, the oak,A tow'ring giant in his size,
When A Feller's Itching To Be Spanked
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
W'EN us fellers stomp around, makin' lots o' noise,
Gramma says, "There's certain times comes to little boys
What Spain Was Like
© Pablo Neruda
All your confinement, your animal isolation
While you are still conscious
Surrounded by the abstract stones of silence,
Your rough wine, your smooth wine
Your violent and dangerous vineyards.
Wild Geese Across the Moon
© Muriel Stuart
REEDS, snake-like, coiled in the mist
Where the low fog drives:
Who'll Buy Gods Of Love?
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
OF all the beauteous wares
Exposed for sale at fairs,
None will give more delight
Than those that to your sight
Winter Sunrise
© Robert Laurence Binyon
It is early morning within this room; without,
Dark and damp; without and within, stillness
Waiting for day: not a sound but a listening air.
Woman! When I Behold Thee Flippant, Vain
© John Keats
Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain,
Inconstant, childish, proud, and full of fancies;
Without that modest softening that enhances
The downcast eye, repentant of the pain
Winter Journey Over The Hartz Mountains.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
LIKE the vulture
Who on heavy morning clouds
With gentle wing reposing
Looks for his prey,--
Hover, my song!
What Is Pink?
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
What is pink? a rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? a poppy's red
In its barley bed.
