|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
I write inferior poetry
my mother doesn't comply
memories often elude me
and I'm left to question why.
They don't get it, do they?
I write from the soul
money, fame or happiness
were never my final goal.
...
|
|
Where hast been toiling all day, sweetheart,
That thy brow is burdened and sad?
The Master's work may make weary feet,
But it leaves the spirit glad.
Was thy garden nipped with the midnight frost,
Or scorched with the midday...
|
|
There sat two glasses filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim;
One was ruddy and red as blood,
And one as clear as the crystal flood.
Said the glass of wine to the paler brother:
"Let us tell the tales of the...
|
|
The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow,
And the storm is fast descending
And...
|
|
Riches I hold in light esteem
And Love I laugh to scorn
And Lust of Fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn —
And if I pray—the only prayer
Is—'Leave the heart that now I bear
And give me...
|
|
The sun has set, and the long grass now
Waves dreamily in the evening wind;
And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone
In some warm nook a couch to find.
In all the lonely landscape round
I see no light and hear no...
|
|
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant—
Sucess in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb suprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man...
|
|
A lady red upon the hill
Her annual secret keeps;
A lady white within the field
In placid lily sleeps!
The tidy breezes with their brooms
Sweep vale, and hill, and tree!
Prithee, my pretty housewives!
Who may expected be?
...
|
|
I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth, -- the two are one;...
|
|
The Heart is the Capital of the Mind —
The Mind is a single State —
The Heart and the Mind together make
A single Continent —
One - is the Population —
Numerous enough —
This ecstatic Nation
Seek...
|
|
The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
Is aristocracy.
- Emily Dickinson
|
|
The sky is low, the clouds are mean —
A traveling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.
A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him —
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught...
|
|
The Soul selects her own Society—
Then — shuts the Door—
To her Divine Majority —
Present no more —
Unmoved — she notes the Chariots — pausing —
At her low Gate —
Unmoved...
|
|
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons —
That opposes, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes —
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us —
We can find no scaar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are...
|
|
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night!"
Except here and there a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
'Tis nothing! a private or two now and then
Will not...
|
|
A weaver sat by the side of his loom
A-flinging the shuttle fast,
And a thread that would last till the hour of doom
Was added at every cast.
His warp had been by the angels spun
And his weft was bright and new,
Like thread that...
|
|
I sing the fortune of a luckless pair,
Whose spotless souls now in one body be;
For beauty still is Prodromus to care,
Crost by the sad stars of nativity:
And of the strange enchantment of a well,
Given by the Gods, my sportive muse doth...
|
|
Cold Virtue guard me, or I shall endure
From the next glance a double calenture
Of fire and lust! Two flames, two Semeles,
Dwell in those eyes, whose looser glowing rays
Would thaw the frozen Russian into lust,
And parch tile negro's...
|
|
Never more will I protest,
To love a woman but in jest:
For as they cannot be true,
So, to give each man his due,
When the wooing fit is past
Their affection cannot last.
Therefore, if I chance to meet
With a mistress fair and sweet,...
|
|
It is a statute in deep wisdom's lore, That for his lines none should a patron chuse By wealth and poverty, by less or more, But who the same is able to peruse: Nor ought a man his labour dedicate, Without a true and sensible desert, To any power of...
|
|
May I find a woman fair, And her mind as clear as air, If her beauty go alone, 'Tis to me as if't were none. May I find a woman rich, And not of too high a pitch; If that pride should cause disdain, Tell me, lover, where's thy gain? May I find a...
|
|
By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead; —
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day; —
Under the one,...
|
|
Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly...
|
|
What have I given,
Bold sailor on the sea?
In earth or heaven,
That you should die for me?
What can I give,
O soldier, leal and brave,
Long as I live,
To pay the life you gave?
What tithe or part
Can I return to...
|
|
The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of a bright world dies
When day is done.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.
-...
|
|
Powered by AlphaContent 3.0.4 © 2005-2008 - All rights reserved |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
"Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand." ~ Plato |
|
Home 
Poetry 
