Death Fugue (Paul Celan Poem)
Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it ...
Poems about plays (51 Poems)
The Sun Sets in Molten Gold (Li Ching Chao Poem)
The sun sets in molten gold. The evening clouds form a jade disk. Where is he? Dense white mist envelops ...
The Hawk and the Babe (Mary Elizabeth Coleridge Poem)
I am that hawk of gold Proud in adamantine poise On the pillars of torqoise, See,beyond ...
Elegy (Mary Elizabeth Coleridge Poem)
Here rests beneath this hospitable spot A youth to flats and flatties not unknown. The Plymouth Brethren gave it to ...
The Hawk and the Babe (Aleister Crowley Poem)
I am that hawk of gold Proud in adamantine poise On the pillars of torqoise, See,beyond ...
Elegy (Aleister Crowley Poem)
Here rests beneath this hospitable spot A youth to flats and flatties not unknown. The Plymouth Brethren gave it to ...
The Miller’s Tale (Geoffrey Chaucer Poems)
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, ...
Clemente’s Images (Robert Creeley Poems)
1) Sleeping birds, lead me, soft birds, be me inside this black room, back of the white moon. In the ...
The Vixen (John Clare Poem)
Among the taller wood with ivy hung, The old fox plays and dances round her young. She snuffs and barks ...
May (John Clare Poem)
Come queen of months in company Wi all thy merry minstrelsy The restless cuckoo absent long And twittering swallows chimney ...
October (Ellis Parker Butler Poem)
The forest holds high carnival to-day, And every hill-side glows with gold and fire; Ivy and sumac dress in colors ...
Hamlet Off-Stage: Snail Peels Off (D. C. Berry Poem)
For quick mental hygiene, the snail's my white mobile clinic, Dr. Hoodoo inside. Seriously. The snail's my man. He's shy, ...
Home (Anne Bronte Poem)
How brightly glistening in the sun The woodland ivy plays! While yonder beeches from their barks Reflect his silver rays. ...
Alexander And Zenobia (Anne Bronte Poem)
Fair was the evening and brightly the sun Was shining on desert and grove, Sweet were the breezes and balmy ...
I Sit By The Window (Joseph Brodsky Poem)
I said fate plays a game without a score, and who needs fish if you've got caviar? The triumph of ...
The Moon (David Berman Poem)
A web of sewer, pipe, and wire connects each house to the others. In 206 a dog sleeps by the ...
One Day (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Today I have been happy. All the day I held the memory of you, and wove Its laughter with the ...
The Four Ages of Man (Anne Bradstreet Poem)
1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage, 1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age. 1.3 The first: ...
Nine Things (Richard Brautigan Poem)
It's night and a numbered beauty lapses at the wind, chortles with the branches of a tree, giggles, plays shadow ...
Lara (Lord Byron Poem)
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
TO A BROWN BEGGAR-MAID (Charles Baudelaire Poem)
WHITE maiden with the russet hair, Whose garments, through their holes, declare That poverty is part of you, And beauty ...
Benediction (Charles Baudelaire Poem)
When, by decree of the supreme power, The Poet appears in this annoyed world, His mother, blasphemous out of horror ...
Cleon (Robert Browning Poem)
"As certain also of your own poets have said"-- (Acts 17.28) Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles, Lily on ...
Caliban upon Setebos or, Natural Theology in the Island (Robert Browning Poem)
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself." (David, Psalms 50.21) ['Will sprawl, now that the heat ...
Bishop Blougram’s Apology (Robert Browning Poems)
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith! We ...
A Light Woman (Robert Browning Poem)
I. So far as our story approaches the end, Which do you pity the most of us three?- My friend, ...
184. Song-The Birks of Aberfeldy (Robert Burns Poem)
Chorus.-Bonie lassie, will ye go, Will ye go, will ye go, Bonie lassie, will ye go To the birks of ...
As The Poems Go (Charles Bukowski Poem)
as the poems go into the thousands you realize that you've created very little. it comes down to the rain, ...
Letter To N.Y. (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For Louise Crane In your next letter I wish you'd say where you are going and what you are doing; ...
The Bight (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
At low tide like this how sheer the water is. White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and ...