Women poems

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The Bride's Prelude

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte

To listless Aloÿse;

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Eclogue:--The Best Man In The Vield

© William Barnes

  That's slowish work, Bob. What'st a-been about?
  Thy pookèn don't goo on not over sprack.
  Why I've a-pook'd my weäle, lo'k zee, clear out,
  An' here I be ageän a-turnèn back.

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Elemental Drifts

© Walt Whitman

ELEMENTAL drifts!
  How I wish I could impress others as you have just been impressing
  me!

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Genesis BK XI

© Caedmon

ll. 442-460) Then God's enemy began to make him ready, equipped

in war-gear, with a wily heart.  He set his helm of darkness on

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Ma And The Auto

© Edgar Albert Guest

Before we take an auto ride Pa says to Ma: "My dear,
Now just remember I don't need suggestions from the rear.
If you will just sit still back there and hold in check your fright,
I'll take you where you want to go and get you back all right.
Remember that my hearing's good and also I'm not blind,
And I can drive this car without suggestions from behind."

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When You Come Home

© Katharine Tynan

All will be right when you come home, dear lad,

  But oh, 'tis long of coming that you are!

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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XXIX

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

He bore her to his home 'twixt life and death,
By mute connivance of the slumbering streets,
Bore her redeemed to a new world of breath
And peace divine, belike the Paraclete's.

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The Woman

© Harriet Monroe

Go sleep, my sweetie—rest—rest!
Oh soft little hand on mother's breast!
Oh soft little lips—the din's mos' gone-
Over and done, my dearie one!

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Songs Set To Music: 19. Set By Mr. C. R.

© Matthew Prior

Phillis, give this humour over,
We too long have time abused;
I shall turn an errant rover
If the favour's still refused.

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The Nut-Brown Maid. A Poem.

© Matthew Prior

Man. I am the knyght, I come by nyght
As secret as I can,
Saying, alas! thus standeth the case,
I am a banishyd man.

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Mary

© Edgar Bowers

The angel of self-discipline, her guardian
Since she first knew and had to go away
From home that spring to have her child with strangers,
Sustained her, till the vanished boy next door

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A Thought or Two on Reading Pomfret's

© James Henry Leigh Hunt

I have been reading Pomfret's "Choice" this spring,
A pretty kind of--sort of--kind of thing,
Not much a verse, and poem none at all,
Yet, as they say, extremely natural.

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C.l.m.

© John Masefield

IN the dark womb where I began
My mother's life made me a man.
Through all the months of human birth
Her beauty fed my common earth.
I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir,
But through the death of some of her.

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The Happiest Girl in the World

© Augusta Davies Webster

A week ago; only a little week:
it seems so much much longer, though that day
is every morning still my yesterday;
as all my life 'twill be my yesterday,
for all my life is morrow to my love.
Oh fortunate morrow! Oh sweet happy love!

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The Everlasting Mercy

© John Masefield

Thy place is biggyd above the sterrys cleer,
Noon erthely paleys wrouhte in so statly wyse,
Com on my freend, my brothir moost enteer,
For the I offryd my blood in sacrifise.
John Lydgate.

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Death In Life

© Madison Julius Cawein

Within my veins it beats
  And burns within my brain;
  For when the year is sad and sear
  I dream the dream again.

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Maundy Thursday

© Wilfred Owen

Between the brown hands of a server-lad

The silver cross was offered to be kissed.

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Propertius

© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)

The dead don’t know how to cry, they don’t
have any hopes to lose, any illusions
to bargain for. They’re lost
like limpid feathers of a slow bird,
too slow to make it to the other shore.

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Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 02

© Torquato Tasso

XVII

"Among the knights and worthies of their train,

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Ode (From The Gaelic)

© George Borrow

“Is luaimnach mo chodal an nochd.”

Oh restless, to night, are my slumbers;