Category Archives: Poetry

The Soldier

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rupert Brooke (1887 – 1915) If I should die, think this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is forever England. There shall be In that rich earth … Continue reading

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The Portent

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) 0h, late withdrawn from human-kind And following dreams we never knew! Varus, what dream has Fate assigned To trouble you? Such virtue as commends of law Of … Continue reading

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To a President

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   All you are doing and saying is to America dangled mirages, You have not learn’d of Nature – of the politics of Nature You have not … Continue reading

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Snow-flakes

…from the quills of the dead white poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882) Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, … Continue reading

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“The Rhine was red”

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Blake (1757 – 1827) The Rhine was red with humane blood, The Danube roll’d a purple tide, On the Euphrates Satan stood And over Asia stretch’d his pride. He wither’d up … Continue reading

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The Destroyers

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) The strength of twice three thousand horse That seeks the single goal; The line that holds the rending course, The hate that swings the whole; The stripped … Continue reading

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The Gates of Paradise

…from the quills of the dead white poets Nikolay Gumilev (1886 – 1921) The eternal entrance into Eden Is not locked with seven precious seals; It has no charms nor light of heaven, And the people don’t know that it … Continue reading

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Away with funeral music

…from the quills of the dead white poets Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 – 1894) Away with funeral music – set The pipe to powerful lips – The cup of life’s for him that drinks And not for him that sips.

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We shall surely die…

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Ernest Henley 1849 -1903 We shall surely die: Must we needs grow old? Grow old and cold, And we know not why? O, the By-and-By, And the tale that’s told! We … Continue reading

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The Snow Maiden

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Alexandr Alexandrovich Blok (1880 – 1921) She came to me from the vast distance – The child of night and other times. Her kin were lost in space and seasons, Our … Continue reading

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When daffodils begin to peer

  …from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616) When daffodils begin to peer, — With hey! The doxy over the dale, — Why, then comes in the sweet o’ the year; For the red … 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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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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By the Hoof of the Wild Goat

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) By the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed From the cliff where she lay in the Sun Fell the Stone To the Tarn where the daylight is … Continue reading

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Love Song

…from the styluses of the long dead poets Sumerian Love Song ( 27th century B.C.) He has sprouted, he has burgeoned, he is lettuce planted by the water, My well-stocked garden of the plain, my favoured of the womb, My … Continue reading

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The Moon In a Zenith

…from the quills of the dead white poets Anna Akhmatova (1889 – 1966) But nothing changed for ages here… In the same way the divine lyre Pours bliss from the eternal crests. Same are the waters and stars’ throngs, And … Continue reading

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Akbar’s Bridge

…from the quills of the dead white poets Rudyard Kipling (1865 – 1936) JELALUDIN MUHAMMED AKBAR, Guardian of Mankind, Moved his standards out of Delhi to Jaunpore of lower Hind, Where a mosque was to be builded, and a lovelier … Continue reading

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That Shadow of My Likeness

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   That shadow my likeness that goes to and fro seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering, How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it … Continue reading

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Where the bee sucks…

…from the quills of the dead white poets William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616) Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip’s bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat’s back I do fly … Continue reading

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Quicksand Years

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Quicksand years that whirl me I know not whither, Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and elude me, Only the scheme I sing, … Continue reading

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