Women poems
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Tale XIV
© George Crabbe
dwell,
While he was acting (he would call it) well;
He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell;
There was no fraud, and he demanded cause
Why he was troubled when he kept the laws?"
"My laws!" said Conscience. "What," said he, "
Daphles. An Argive Story
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
But the Queen's host by skilful champions led,
Its powers meanwhile concentred to a head,
Lay, an embattled force with wary eye,
Ready to ward or strike whene'er the cry
Of coming foemen on their ears should fall,
Nigh the huge towers which guard the capital.
Shakuntala Act III
© Kalidasa
ACT III
SCENE The HERMITAGE in a Grove.
The Hermit's Pupil bearing consecrated grass.
The Secret Police
© Ken Smith
They are listening in the wires,
in the walls, under the eaves
in the wings of house martins,
in the ears of old women,
in the mouths of children.
The Crucifixion
© Adelaide Crapsey
And the centurion who stood by said:
Truly this was a son of God.
Not long ago but everywhere I go
There is a hill and a black windy sky.
A Mans Wooing
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
YOU said, last night, you did not think
In all the world of men
Was one true lover--true alike
In deed and word and pen;--
The Pen And The Album
© William Makepeace Thackeray
"I am Miss Catherine's book," the album speaks;
"I've lain among your tomes these many weeks;
I'm tired of their old coats and yellow cheeks.
After A Lecture On Shelley
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
ONE broad, white sail in Spezzia's treacherous bay
On comes the blast; too daring bark, beware I
The cloud has clasped her; to! it melts away;
The wide, waste waters, but no sail is there.
A Castaway
© Augusta Davies Webster
So long since:
and now it seems a jest to talk of me
as if I could be one with her, of me
who am…… me.
"'I have come to take your place, sister"
© Anna Akhmatova
--'You've come to put me in the grave.
Where is your shovel and your spade?
You're carrying just a flute.
I'm not going to blame you,
Sadly a long time ago
My voice fell mute.
Women Before A Shop
© Ezra Pound
The gew-gaws of false amber and false turquoise attract them.
'Like to like nature': these agglutinous yellows!
Anne Hathaway
© Mathilde Blind
Was not this Anne the flame-like daffodil
Of Shakespeare's March, whose maiden beauty took
His senses captive? Thus the stripling brook
Mirrors a wild flower nodding by the mill,
Then grows a river in which proud cities look,
And with a land's load widens seaward still
Hot Afternoons Have Been in Montana
© Eli Siegel
Quiet and green was the grass of the field,
The sky was whole in brightness,
Do You Think That I Do Not Know?
© Henry Lawson
They say that I never have written of love,
As a writer of songs should do;
A Story Of Doom: Book II.
© Jean Ingelow
Now ere the sunrise, while the morning star
Hung yet behind the pine bough, woke and prayed
Tarafa
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The tent lines these of Kháula in stone--stricken Tháhmadi.
See where the fire has touched them, dyed dark as the hands of her.
'Twas here thy friends consoled thee that day with thee comforting,
cried; Not of grief, thou faint--heart! Men die not thus easily.
The Prophecy Of St. Oran: Part II
© Mathilde Blind
I.
THERE was a windless mere, on whose smooth breast
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf III. -- Thora Of Rimol
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me!
Danger and shame and death betide me!
For Olaf the King is hunting me down
Through field and forest, through thorp and town!"
Thus cried Jarl Hakon
To Thora, the fairest of women.
