Category Archives: Poetry

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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The Absent-Minded Beggar

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) When you’ve shouted “Rule Britannia,” when you’ve sung “God save the Queen,” When you’ve finished killing Kruger with your mouth, Will you kindly drop a shilling in … Continue reading

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“Ye, Who Would More Of Spain…”

…from the quills of dead white poets Lord Byron (1788 – 1824)   (From “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” Canto One) LXXXVII Ye, who would more of Spain and Spaniards know, Go, read whate’er is writ of bloodiest strife: Whate’er keen Vengeance … Continue reading

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“Yet Here, Laertes!…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)   (From “Hamlet, Prince of Denmark”) Yet here, Laertes! Aboard, aboard, for The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay’d for. There, … Continue reading

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Silence

…from the quills of the dead white poets Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849) There are some qualities- some incorporate things, That have a double life, which thus is made A type of that twin entity which springs From matter … Continue reading

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“I’m Hamlet Now…”

…from the quills of the dead white poets Alexandr Alexandrovich Blok (1880 – 1921) I’m Hamlet now. Freezes blood, When the perfidy waves laces, While love is first – and lives in heart For her – the one in times … Continue reading

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Monte Cassino

…from the quills of the dead white poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) Terra Di Lavoro Beautiful valley! through whose verdant meads Unheard the Garigliano glides along;– The Liris, nurse of rushes and of reeds, The river taciturn of … Continue reading

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