Wish poems
/ page 32 of 92 /
The Princess (part 3)
© Alfred Tennyson
Morn in the wake of the morning star
Came furrowing all the orient into gold.
We rose, and each by other drest with care
Descended to the court that lay three parts
In shadow, but the Muses' heads were touched
Above the darkness from their native East.
Caravaggio: Swirl & Vortex
© Larry Levis
In the Borghese, Caravaggio, painter of boy whores, street punk, exile & murderer,
Left behind his own face in the decapitated, swollen, leaden-eyed head of Goliath,
And left the eyelids slightly open, & left on the face of David a look of pity
In Memoriam A. H. H.
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
Tale VIII
© George Crabbe
grace?" -
"He knew she hated every watering-place."
"The town?"--"What! now 'twas empty, joyless,
Hermann And Dorothea - IX. Urania
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
O YE Muses, who gladly favour a love that is heartfelt,
Who on his way the excellent youth have hitherto guided,
Who have press'd the maid to his bosom before their betrothal,
Help still further to perfect the bonds of a couple so loving,
Drive away the clouds which over their happiness hover!
But begin by saying what now in the house has been passing.
Present Imperative
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Nay query not, Leuconoë, the finish of the fable;
Eliminate the worry as to what the years may hoard!
You only waste your time upon the Babylonian Table-
(Slang for the ouija board).
The Martinet
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Some time ago, in simple verse
I sang the story true
Of CAPTAIN REECE, the MANTELPIECE,
And all her happy crew.
Reminiscence
© Padraic Colum
Recalling long ago. And she will hop
The inches of her crib, this narrow shop,
When you step in to be her customer:
A bird of little worth, a sparrow, say,
Whose crib's in such neglected passageway
That one's left wondering who brings crumbs to her.
Joys of Spring
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
The climbing sun again was wakening the world
And laughing at the wreck of frigid winter's trade.
The Shepherds Calendar - December-Christmass
© John Clare
Christmass is come and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now
Een want will dry its tears in mirth
And crown him wi a holly bough
The Child In The Garden
© Henry Van Dyke
When to the garden of untroubled thought
I came of late, and saw the open door,
We Were Four Sisters
© Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin
We were four sisters, four sisters were we,
All four of us loved, but had different "becauses:"
One loved because father and mother told her to,
another loved because her lover was rich,
the third loved because he was a famous artist,
and I loved because I fell in love.
Shooter's Hill
© Robert Bloomfield
Health! I seek thee;-dost thou love
The mountain top or quiet vale,
The Heart Taken
© John Newton
The castle of the human heart
Strong in its native sin;
Is guarded well, in every part,
By him who dwells within.
Metamorphoses: Book The Seventh
© Ovid
The End of the Seventh Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Coombe-Ellen
© William Lisle Bowles
Call the strange spirit that abides unseen
In wilds, and wastes, and shaggy solitudes,
A Winter's Tale
© Dylan Thomas
It is a winter's tale
That the snow blind twilight ferries over the lakes
And floating fields from the farm in the cup of the vales,
Gliding windless through the hand folded flakes,
The pale breath of cattle at the stealthy sail,
