Which Poet Committed His Wife to a Home and Never Visited Her Again
Nosotros nowadays to your attention a choice of laconic poems past famous English language and American poets. The poems will open the world of dainty, tender feelings and philosophical outlook on life, bright cheerful jokes and witty English humor to you. Brusk poems are piece of cake to read and memorize.
George Gordon Byron
Sunday of the sleepless! melancholy star!
Whose bawling beam glows tremulously far,
That show'st the darkness chiliad canst non dispel,
How like art thou to Joy think'd well!
So gleams the past, the calorie-free of other days,
Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays;
A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,
Distinct, but afar – clear, but oh, how common cold!
Alfred Edward Housman
It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the air current blows above,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged themselves for love.
The nettle nods, the wind blows over,
The homo, he does not move,
The lover of the grave, the lover
That hanged himself for love.
***
Oh, when I was in dear with you lot,
Then I was clean and dauntless,
And miles effectually the wonder grew
How well did I behave.
And now the fancy passes past,
And aught will remain,
And miles around they'll say that I
Am quite myself again.
When I came last to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight stake,
Two friends kept step abreast me,
Two honest lads and unhurt.
Now Dick lies long in the churchyard,
And Ned lies long in jail,
And I come home to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight pale.
***
Oh on my breast in days hereafter
Lite the world should lie,
Such weight to bear is at present the air,
So heavy hangs the sky.
Hilaire Belloc
The Big Baboon
The Big Baboon is institute upon
The plains of Cariboo;
He goes most with cipher on
(A shocking matter to do.)
Simply if he dressed respectably
And let his whiskers grow
How similar this Large Baboon would exist
To Mister And so-and-So!
Walter de la Mare
The Horseman
I heard a horseman
Ride over the hill;
The moon shone articulate,
The night was still;
His helm was silvery,
And pale was he;
And the horse he rode
Was of ivory.
***
Hibernate and Seek
Hibernate and seek, says the Wind,
In the shade of the forest;
Hide and seek, says the Moon,
To the hazel buds;
Hide and seek, says the Cloud,
Star on to star;
Hide and seek, says the Wave
At the harbour bar;
Hide and seek, says I,
To myself, and footstep
Out of the dream of Wake
Into the dream of Sleep.
T. E. Hulme
Fall
A touch of cold in the Autumn night —
I walked abroad,
And saw the blood-red moon lean over a hedge
Similar a crimson-faced farmer.
I did non stop to speak, but nodded,
And round about were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children.
***
The beach
(The fantasia of a fallen gentleman on a cold, bitter nighttime)
In one case, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,
In a flash of gold heels on the hard pavement.
Now see I
That warmth's the very stuff of verse.
Oh, God, make small
The one-time star-eaten blanket of the sky,
That I may fold it round me and in comfort lie.
Richard Aldington
To Those Who Played for Safety in Life
I too might have worn starched cuffs,
Take gulped my morning repast in haste,
Take clothed myself in dismal staffs
Which prove a sober Urban center taste;
I besides might have rocked and craned
In undergrounds for daily news,
And watched my soul abound slowly stained
To middle-class unsightly hues...
I might take earned x pounds a calendar week!
Richard Church building
The Last Liberty
The blind human, when the skylark shakes
Trill over trill from the blueish higher up,
Stares upwardly and from darkness wakes
Through sockets eloquent with dearest.
If our defective senses thus
Kindle at glories half-divined,
What of the joy pending us
When death brings liberty to the mind?
George Barker
Summer Song II
Soft is the coolied night, and cool
These regions where the dreamers rule,
As Summer, in her rose and robe,
Astride the horses of the globe,
Drags, fighting, from the midnight sky,
The mushroom at whose glance we die.
Philip Larkin
Pour away that youth
That overflows the centre
Into hair and mouth;
Accept the grave's part,
Tell the os's truth.
Throw away that youth
That jewel in the head
That statuary in the breath;
Walk with the dead
For fear of death.
***
Inside the dream you said:
Let us kiss so,
In this room, in this bed,
But when all's done
We must not run across again.
Hearing this concluding word,
In that location was no lambing-night,
No gale-driven bird
Nor frost-encircled root
Equally common cold as my heart.
Home is then sad. It stays as it was left,
Shaped to the comfort of the last to go
As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no heart to put aside the theft
And turn again to what it started every bit,
A joyous shot at how things ought to exist,
Long fallen wide. You can meet how it was:
Await at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the pianoforte stool. That vase.
Ted Hughes
Kafka
And he is an owl
He is an owl, "Man" tattooed in his armpit
Nether the cleaved wing
(Stunned by the wall of glare, he fell here)
Under the cleaved wing of huge shadow that twitches across the floor.
He is a man in hopeless feathers.
Brian Patten
A Talk with a Wood
Moving through you one evening
when you lot offered shelter to
placidity things soaked in rain
I saw through your thinning branches
the ancestry of suburbs, and
frightened by the pelting,
greyness hares running upright in
distant fields, and quite lonely in that location
thought of nothing simply my footprints
being filled, and love, distilled
of people, drifted costless, then
the forest spoke with me.
William Butler Yeats
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silvery lite,
The bluish and the dim and the night cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
Merely I, being poor, take only my dreams;
I take spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you lot tread on my dreams.
James Joyce
The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue,
The lamp fills with a pale light-green glow
The trees of the avenue.
The sometime pianoforte plays an air,
Sedate and tedious and gay;
She bends upon the yellow keys,
Her head inclines this way.
Shy thoughts and grave wide eyes and easily
That wander as they list —
The twilight turns to darker bluish
With lights of amethyst.
***
Simples
O bella bionda,
Sei come fifty'onda!
Of cool sweet dew and radiance balmy
The moon a web of silence weaves
In the still garden where a kid
Gathers the elementary salad leaves.
A moondew stars her hanging pilus
And moonlight kisses her young forehead
And, gathering, she sings an air:
Fair as the wave is, fair, art one thousand!
Be mine, I pray, a waxen ear
To shield me from her kittenish croon
And mine a shielded heart for her
Who gathers simples of the moon.
Walt Whitman
I dream'd in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the
whole of the rest of the world,
I dream'd that was the new metropolis of Friends,
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love, it led
the rest,
Information technology was seen every hr in the actions of the men of that urban center,
And in all their looks and words.
Emily Dickinson
Which lead the seasons by,
Needs just to think
That from you or I,
They may take the trifle
Termed mortality!
To invest existence with a stately air
Needs but to recall
That the acorn there
Is the egg of forests
For the upper air!
***
If I shouldn't be live
When the Robins come up,
Give the one in Carmine Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.
If I couldn't thank you,
Being fast asleep,
You will know I'm trying
With my Granite lip!
***
I'thou Nobody! Who are you?
Are you lot — Nobody — also?
And then in that location'due south a pair of us!
Don't tell! They'd banish the states — yous know!
How dreary — to be — Somebody!
How public — similar a Frog —
To tell your proper name — the livelong June —
To an admiring Bog!
***
Heart! Nosotros volition forget him!
You and I - tonight!
Yous may forget the
Warmth he gave -
I will forget the Light!
When you have done, pray tell me
That I may directly begin!
Haste! lest while y'all're lagging
I may remember him!
This is my alphabetic character to the Globe
That never wrote to Me —
The uncomplicated News that Nature told —
With tender Majesty
Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see —
For honey of Her — Sweet — countrymen —
Gauge tenderly — of Me
***
If I can stop ane Heart from breaking
shall not live in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching
Or absurd 1 Pain
Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again
I shall not alive in Vain.
***
I never saw a Moor —
I never saw the Ocean —
However know I how the Heather looks
And what a Breaker exist.
I never spoke with God
Nor visited in Heaven —
Notwithstanding certain am I of the spot
Every bit if the Checks were given —
Carl Sandburg
Limited
I am riding on a limited express, one of the crack trains
of the nation.
Hurtling across the prairie into blue brume and dark air get
fifteen all-steel coaches holding a thousand people.
(All the coaches shall be scrap and rust and all the men and
women laughing in the diners and sleepers shall pass to
ashes.)
I ask a human in the smoker where he is going and he answers:
"Omaha."
***
Prayers of Steel
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Beat me and hammer me into a crowbar.
Let me pry loose one-time walls.
Let me elevator and loosen old foundations.
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Trounce me and hammer me into a steel spike.
Bulldoze me into the girders that agree a skyscraper together.
Take red-hot rivets and fasten me into the primal girders.
Let me be the great nail holding a skyscraper through bluish
nights into white stars.
Robert Frost
The Pasture
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves abroad
(And expect to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long. — You lot come too.
I'thou going out to fetch the fiddling calf
That's standing past the female parent. Information technology'due south so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long. — You come as well.
***
Burn and Water ice
Some say the world volition end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if information technology had to perish twice,
I recollect I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is as well smashing
And would suffice.
Walter Lowenfels
Message from Bert Brecht
And don't retrieve
fine art
is that actor over in that location
talking
to that other 1
upstage
He'south the third one
you don't see
talking
to that other one
you can't hear
offstage
Langston Hughes
Porter
I must say
Aye, sir,
To yous all the time.
Yes, sir!
Yes, sir!
All my days
Climbing up a great large mount
Of aye, sirs!
Rich old white man
Owns the earth
Gimme yo' shoes
To smoothen
Yes, sir!
Edward Lear
There was an Old Human being of Dumbree,
Who taught little Owls to drink Tea;
For he said, "To eat mice
Is not proper or nice,"
That affable Man of Dumbree.
***
There was on Old Man of the Isles,
Whose face was pervaded with smiles;
He sung high dum diddle,
And played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.
Lewis Carroll
At that place was an eccentric old draper,
Who wore a hat made of brown paper,
It went up to a betoken,
Yet it looked out of joint,
The cause of which he said was "vapour."
***
At that place was once a young man of Oporta,
Who daily got shorter and shorter,
The reason he said
Was the hod on his caput,
Which was filled with the heaviest mortar.
His sis named Lucy O'Finner,
Grew constantly thinner and thinner,
The reason was plainly,
She slept out in the rain,
And was never allowed whatsoever dinner.
John Donne
The Expiration
So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss,
Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away,
Turn g ghost that way, and allow me turn this,
And let our selves benight our happiest day,
Nosotros inquire none go out to dearest; nor will we owe
Whatsoever, so cheap a decease, every bit maxim, Go;
Go; and if that word take non quite kil'd thee,
Ease me with death, by behest me go too.
Oh, if it take, let my word work on me,
And a just office on a murderer do.
Except information technology be too late, to impale me so,
Existence double dead, going, and bidding, go.
Maya Angelou
Passing Time
Your skin like dawn
Mine similar musk
One paints the showtime
of a sure cease.
The other, the end of a
sure beginning.
William Shakespeare
Sonnet 116. Let me not to the matrimony of true minds
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments, love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an always-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his summit be taken.
Love's non Time'south fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Inside his bending sickle'southward compass come,
Dear alters not with his cursory hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
If this exist fault and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no homo e'er loved.
Edgar Allan Poe
An Acrostic
Elizabeth it is in vain you say
"Honey not"—thousand sayest it in so sugariness a way:
In vain those words from thee or L. E. 50.
Zantippe'southward talents had enforced and then well:
Ah! if that language from thy eye ascend,
Breathe information technology less gently forth—and veil thine eyes.
Endymion, call back, when Luna tried
To cure his love—was cured of all beside—
His folly—pride—and passion—for he died.
William Blake
Epigram
Y'all say their Pictures well Painted exist,
And still they are Blockheads you lot all agree,
Thank God, I never was sent to Schoolhouse
To be Flogg'd into following the Stile of a Fool.
The Errors of a Wise Human make your Rule
Rather than the Perfections of a Fool.
Eternity
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity'due south sun rise.
***
All pictures that's panted with sense and with thought
Are panted past madmen, as certain as a groat;
For the greater the fool is the pencil more blest,
As when they are drunk they e'er pant best.
They never can Raphael it, Fuseli it, nor Blake it;
If they can't see an outline, pray how can they make it?
When men will depict outlines begin you lot to jaw them;
Madmen see outlines and therefore they draw them.
Wystan Hugh Auden
Epitaph on a Tyrant
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was subsequently,
And the verse he invented was easy to empathise;
He knew human folly like the dorsum of his hand,
And was profoundly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
Thomas Stearns Eliot
The Boston Evening Transcript
The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript
Sway in the wind similar a field of ripe corn.
When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning
Wearily, as 1 would turn to nod good-farewell to Rochefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the end of the street,
And I say, "Cousin Harriet, hither is the Boston Evening Transcript."
Oscar Wilde
Theoretikos
This mighty empire hath but feet of clay:
Of all its aboriginal chivalry and might
Our little island is forsake quite:
Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay,
And from its hills that vocalisation hath passed away
Which spake of Freedom: O come out of information technology,
Come up out of information technology my Soul, chiliad art non fit
For this vile traffic-business firm, where day by day
Wisdom and reverence are sold at mart,
And the rude people rage with ignorant cries
Against an heritage of centuries.
It mars my at-home: wherefore in dreams of Fine art
And loftiest civilization I would stand apart,
Neither for God, nor for his enemies.
Source: https://md-eksperiment.org/post/20210120-short-poems-in-english
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