Category Archives: Poetry

Sun Of the Sleepless

…from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824) (From “Hebrew Melodies”)   Sun of the Sleepless! melancholy star! Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far, That show’st the darkness thou canst not dispel, How like art thou to … Continue reading

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The Ballad of the “Bolivar”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain: Give the girls another drink ‘fore we sign away — We that took the BOLIVAR out across the … Continue reading

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“Oh, If I’ve Known…”

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Anna Akhmatova (1889 – 1966)   1925 Oh, if I’ve known, when, in dress of whiteness, Muse was just coming to my living place, That to the lyre, stoned in the … Continue reading

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Apologetic Postscript of a Year Later

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert Louis Stevenson If you see this song, my dear, And last year’s toast, I’m confoundedly in fear You’ll be serious and severe About the boast. Blame not that I sought such … Continue reading

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Jewish Melody

…from the quills of dead white poets Mikhail Lermontov (1814 -1841)   (From Byron) 1836 My heart is in a gloom. Be fast, Oh bard, be fast! There is a harp of gold: And let your fingers, that on strings … Continue reading

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“Hateful Is the Dark-Blue Sky”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Alfred Tennyson (1809 – 1892) (From “The Lotos-Eaters”) Hateful is the dark-blue sky, Vaulted o’er the dark-blue sea. Death is the end of life; ah, why Should life all labor be? Let … Continue reading

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The Miller’s Daughter

…from the quills of the dead white poets Alfred Tennyson (1809 – 1892) It is the miller’s daughter, And she is grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles in her ear; For hid in … Continue reading

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The Evening Star

…from the quills of the dead white poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) From The Belfry Of Bruges (Sonnets) Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines, Like a fair lady at her … Continue reading

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Vision Of Belshazzar

  …from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824) (From “Hebrew Melodies”) The King was on his throne, The Satraps thronged the hall: A thousand bright lamps shone O’er that high festival. A thousand cups of … Continue reading

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“When Daffodils Begin To Peer…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)   (From “The Winter’s Tale”) When daffodils begin to peer, — With hey! The doxy over the dale, – Why, then comes in the sweet o’ the … Continue reading

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A British-Roman Song (A. D. 406)

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) “A Centurion of the Thirtieth” — Puck of Pook’s Hill My father’s father saw it not, And I, belike, shall never come To look on that so-holy … Continue reading

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“Two Suns are Cooling…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Marina Tsvetaeva (1892 – 1941) “Two Suns are Cooling…” Two suns are cooling – O save me, God! The first – in heavens, the second – in heart. Will I have an … Continue reading

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“A Girl Sang a Song…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Alexandr Alexandrovich Blok (1880 – 1921)   1905 A girl sang a song in the temple’s chorus, About men, tired in alien lands, About the ships that left native shores, And all … Continue reading

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Dreams Are Best

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert William Service (1874 – 1958)   (Fragment) I just think that dreams are best, Just to sit and fancy things; Give your gold no acid test, Try not how your silver … Continue reading

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Dark House

…from the quills of the dead white poets Alfred Tennyson (1809 – 1892) Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street. Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a … Continue reading

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She Walks In Beauty

…from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824)   (From “Hebrew Melodies”) She walks in Beauty, like the night Or cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meat in her … Continue reading

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The Little Girl Found

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827)   All the night in woe Lyca’s parents go Over valleys deep, While the deserts weep. Tired and woe-begone, Hoarse with making moan, Arm in arm, seven … Continue reading

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Zas ve vidění prorockém

…from the quills of the dead white poets Otokar Březina (1868 -1929) Zas ve vidění prorockém noc šeptá slova neznámá, šum stromů, tisíc jazyků, je opakuje nad náma: jak nad zrcadla kouzelná se k tichým vodám naklání, z nichž tisíc … Continue reading

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Cold Iron

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) Gold is for the mistress — silver for the maid – Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.” “Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall, … Continue reading

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Ad Martialem

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 – 1894) Go(d) knows, my Martial, if we two could be To enjoy our days set wholly free; To the true life together bend our mind, And take … Continue reading

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