Category Archives: Poetry

The Critic’s Task

  …from the quills of the dead white poets   Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744)     A little earning is a dangerous thing;  Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:  There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,  And drinking … Continue reading

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Long, too long America

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) Long, too long America,  Travelling roads all even and peaceful you learn from joys and prosperity only,  But now, ah now, to learn from crises of … Continue reading

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Všichni mi lhali

  …from the quills of the dead white poets František Gellner (1881 -1914) Všichni mi lhali, všichni mi lhali, blázna si ze mne dělali. Přede mnou citem se rozplývali, a zády se mi vysmáli. Žurnály, básníci, učenci lhali, po léta … Continue reading

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I hear America singing

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing … Continue reading

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Maids of Australia

  …from the quills of the dead white poets   Banjo Paterson (1864 -1941)    One day as I strolled by the Hawkesbury banks,  Where the maids of Australia, they play their wild pranks,  Near a palm-shaded tree, I laid … Continue reading

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A Pub with No Beer

…from the quills of the white poets Dan Shean / Gordon Parson   It’s lonesome away from your kindred and all, By the campfire at night where the wild dingoes call, But there’s nothing so lonesome, so morbid or drear … Continue reading

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With My Swag All on My Shoulder

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Banjo Paterson (1864 -1941) When first I left Old England’s shore, Such yarns as we were told, As how folks in Australia Could pick up lumps of gold. So, when we … Continue reading

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An Essay on Man

  …from the quills of the dead white poets   Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744)    Awake, my St John! leave all meaner things  To low ambition, and pride of kings.  Let us (since life can little more supply  Than … Continue reading

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Doctrine of the fair helm-maker to the light o’loves

  …from the quills of the dead white poets     Francois Villon (1431 – 1463) I   Now think on’t, Nell the glover fair,  That wont my schollar once to be,  And you, Blanche Slippermaker there,  Your case in … Continue reading

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To Blossoms

  …from the quills of the dead white poets   Robert Herrick (1591 – 1674)    Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,  Why do you fall so fast? Your date is not so past,  But you may stay yet here … Continue reading

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Antony’s First Meeting with Cleopatra

  …from the quills of the dead white poets    William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)    The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne,  Burn’d on the water; the poop was beaten gold:  Purple the sails, and so perfumed … Continue reading

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Doma na hřbitově

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Karel Toman (1877 – 1946) Dva hroby podle sebe už zarůstají travou a vesele z ní hledí maceška žlutá s tmavou. Čas překlenul tu dálku, jež byla mezi námi, zem pochovala … Continue reading

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Hampton Court

  …from the quills of the dead white poets   Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744)    Close by those meads, for ever crown’d with flow’rs  Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow’rs,  There stands a structure of majestic frame, … Continue reading

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The Old Familiar Faces

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Charles Lamb (1775 – 1834)   I have had playmates, I have had companions   In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days;   All, all are gone, the old … Continue reading

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Zástupy

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Karel Toman (1877 – 1946) Když přijde jaro a na stromech je květ, my chudá pakáž chcem odjakživa znovu dělit svět. Jsme celé moře, jsme hmota a jsme sen a slunce … Continue reading

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Ballad of the Lords of Old Time

  …from the quills of the dead white poets   Francois Villon (1431 – 1463) What more? Where is the third Calixt,  Last of that name now dead and gone,  Who held four years the Papalist?  Alfonso king of Aragon, … Continue reading

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To Lucasta, on Going Beyond the Seas

…from the quills of dead white poets Richard Lovelace (1618 – 1658)    If to be absent were to be  Away from thee;  Or that when I am gone  You or I were alone;  Then, my Lucasta, might I crave … Continue reading

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Sluneční hodiny

…from the quills of the dead white poets   Karel Toman (1877 – 1946)   Dům v rozvalinách. Po děravých zdech  se rozlez žravý mech  a lišejníků cizopasná cháska. Na dvoře bují kokotice  a prales kopřiv. Studna otrávená  je napajedlo … Continue reading

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At a Solemn Music

  …from the quills of the dead white poets     John Milton (1608 – 1674)     Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven’s joy,  Sphere-born harmonious Sisters, Voice and Verse!  Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ, … Continue reading

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On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer

  …from the quills of dead white poets   John Keats (1791 – 1821)     Much have I travelled in the realms of gold   And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;   Round many western islands have I … Continue reading

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