Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
The Fisherman
(Mindanao, Philippines)IN the dark waveless sea,Deep blue under deep blue,The fisher drifts by on the tideIn his small pole-balanced canoe.Above him..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Evening Hymn In The Hovels
'WE sow the fertile seed and then we reap it;We thresh the golden grain; we knead the bread.Others that eat are glad. In store they keep it,While we..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
To His Love
(With his first book of 'Songs')'MY Sweet, my Child, through all this nightOf dark and wind and rain,Where thunder crashes, and the lightSears the..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
The Truth
COME then, let us at least know what's the truth.Let us not blink our eyes and sayWe did not understand; old age or youthBenumbed our sense or stole..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
From A Verandah
(Sydney)'Armageddon'O CITY lapped in sun and Sabbath rest,With happy face of plenteous ease possessed,Have you no doubts that whisper, dreams that..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Algernon Charles Swinburne
SHRIEKS out of smoke, a flame of dung-straw fireThat is not quenched but hath for only fruitWhat writhes and dies not in its rotten root:Two things..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
A Fool
HE asked me of my friend — 'a clever man;Such various talent, business, journalism;A pen that might some day have sent out ‘leaders’From our greatest..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
England In Egypt
FROM the dusty jaded sunlight of the careless Cairo streets,Through the open bedroom window where the pale blue held thepalms,There came a sound of..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
A Visitor In The Camp
To Mary Robinson'WHAT, are you lost, you pretty little lady?This is no place for such sweet things as you.Our bodies, rank with sweat, will make you..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
To The Emperor William I
YOU are at least a Man, of men a King.You have a heart, and with that heart you love.The race you come from is not gendered ofThe filthy sty whose..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
England
WHERE'ER I go in this dense East,In sunshine or shade,I retch at the villainous feastThat England has made,And my shame cannot understand,As scorn..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Epode
BEYOND the Night, down o'er the labouring East,I see light's harbinger of day released:Upon the false gleam of the ante-dawn,Lo, the fair heaven of..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
In Trafalgar Square
THE stars shone faint through the smoky blue;The church-bells were ringing;Three girls, arms laced, were passing through,Tramping and singing.Their..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Dublin At Dawn
IN the chill grey summer dawn-lightWe pass through the empty streets;The rattling wheels are all silent;No friend his fellow greets.Here and there..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
A Glimpse Of China
IIn a Sampan(Min River, Fo Kien)Up in the misty morning,Up past the gardened hills,With the rhythmic stroke of the rowers,While the blue deep pales..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
To The Sons Of Labour
GRAVE this deep in your hearts,Forget not the tale of the past!Never, never believeThat any will help you, or can,Saving only Yourselves!What have..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Dai Butsu
He sits. Upon the kingly head doth restThe round-balled wimple, and the heavy ringsTouch on the shoulders where the swallow clings;The downward..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
To John Ruskin
(After reading his 'Modern Painters')YES, you do well to mock us, youWho knew our bitter woe —To jeer the false, deny the trueIn us blind-struggling..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Toil
I TOIL, I toil, as toils a jaded horseAround the ever-changing changeless trackFrom sunrise on to sunset, till the mill,That grinds in flour my heart..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
To Karl Marx
NOT for the thought that burns on keen and clear,Heat that the heat has turned from red to white,The passion of the lone remembering nightOne with..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
An Assassin
. . . They caught him at the bend. He and his sonSat in the car, revolvers in their laps.From either side the stone-walled wintry roadThere flashed..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
A South-Sea Islander
ALOLL in the warm clear water,On her back with languorous limbs,She lies. The baby upon her breastsPaddles and falls and swims.With half-closed eyes..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
The Peasants' Revolt
THRO' the mists of years,Thro' the lies of men,Your bloody sweat and tears,Your desperate hopes and fearsReach us once again,Brothers, who long..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Elsie
A MemoryLITTLE elfin maid,Old, though scarce two years,With your big dark hazel eyesTenderer than tears,And your rosebud mouthLisping jocund..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams
The Caged Eagle
. . . I went the other dayTo see the birds and beasts they keep enmewedIn the London Zoo. One of the first I saw —One of the first I noticed, was an..
© Francis William Lauderdale Adams