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").
A Cuckoo Song
Crowns are for kings to wear, sad crowns of goldOver tired heads that ache, world--cares untold.Not on thy happy brows, sweet bird of summer,Set we..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Convent Wothout God
A prison is a convent without God.Poverty, Chastity, ObedienceIts precepts are. In this austere abodeNone gather wealth of pleasure or of..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Chaunt In Praise
How many hymns have I chaunted, Lady, in laud of thee,Each with a sigh for its burthen, tear for its antiphon?Love--songs are sweet in the morning...
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A Ballad Of The Heather
We spent a day together,One day of all our lives,Of love in cloudless weather--Such only youth contrives--One day in the red heather,Alone with our..
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The Butterfly and the Bee
Methought I heard a butterflySay to a labouring bee:'Thou hast no colours of the skyOn painted wings like me.''Poor child of vanity! those dyes,And..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Last Song Of Camoens
The morning shone on Tagus' rocky side,And airs of summer swelled the yellow tide,When, rising from his melancholy bed,And faint, and feebly by..
© William Lisle Bowles
On Landing At Ostend
The orient beam illumes the parting oar;--From yonder azure track, emerging white,The earliest sail slow gains upon the sight,And the blue wave comes..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Harp, And Despair, Of Cowper
Sweet bard, whose tones great Milton might approve,And Shakspeare, from high Fancy's sphere,Turning to the sound his ear,Bend down a look of sympathy..
© William Lisle Bowles
Woodspring Abbey
These walls were built by men who did a deedOf blood:--terrific conscience, day by day,Followed, where'er their shadow seemed to stay,And still in..
© William Lisle Bowles
Winter Evening At Home
Fair Moon, that at the chilly day's declineOf sharp December through my cottage paneDost lovely look, smiling, though in thy wane!In thought, to..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Missionary - Canto Fourth
Far in the centre of the deepest wood,The assembled fathers of their country stood.'Twas midnight now; the pine-wood fire burned red,And to the..
© William Lisle Bowles
In Horto Rev. J. Still,
APUD KNOYLE, VILLAM AMOENISSIMAM.Stranger! a while beneath this aged treeRest thee, the hills beyond, and flowery meads,Surveying; and if Nature's..
© William Lisle Bowles
Hymn To Woden
God of the battle, hear our prayer!By the lifted falchion's glare;By the uncouth fane sublime,Marked with many a Runic rhyme;By the 'weird sisters'..
© William Lisle Bowles
In Youth
Milton, our noblest poet, in the graceOf youth, in those fair eyes and clustering hair,That brow untouched by one faint line of care,To mar its..
© William Lisle Bowles
I. Written At Tinemouth, Northumberland, After A Tempestuous Voyage.
AS slow I climb the cliff's ascending side,Much musing on the track of terror pastWhen o'er the dark wave rode the howling blastPleas'd I look back..
© William Lisle Bowles
On A Beautiful Spring,
FORMING A COLD BATH, AT COOMBE, NEAR DONHEAD, BELONGING TO MY BROTHER,CHAS. BOWLES, ESQ.Fountain, that sparklest through the shady place,Making a..
© William Lisle Bowles
Hope, An Allegorical Sketch
I am the comforter of them that mourn;My scenes well shadowed, and my carol sweet,Cheer the poor passengers of life's rude bourne,Till they are..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Missionary - Canto Third
Come,--for the sun yet hangs above the bay,--And whilst our time may brook a brief delayWith other thoughts, and, haply with a tear,An old man's tale..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Sylph Of Summer
God said, Let there be light, and there was light!At once the glorious sun, at his command,From space illimitable, void and dark,Sprang jubilant, and..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Visionary Boy
Oh! lend that lute, sweet Archimage, to me!Enough of care and heavinessThe weary lids of life depress,And doubly blest that gentle heart shall..
© William Lisle Bowles
Hour-Glass And Bible
Look, Christian, on thy Bible, and that glassThat sheds its sand through minutes, hours, and days,And years; it speaks not, yet, methinks, it says,To..
© William Lisle Bowles
On Leaving Winchester School
The spring shall visit thee again,Itchin! and yonder ancient fane,That casts its shadow on thy breast,As if, by many winters beat,The blooming season..
© William Lisle Bowles
Xii. Written At A Convent.
IF chance some pensive stranger, hither led,His bosom glowing from majestic views,The gorgeous dome, or the proud landscape's hues,Should ask who..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The First
Awake a louder and a loftier strain!Beloved harp, whose tones have oft beguiledMy solitary sorrows, when I leftThe scene of happier hours, and..
© William Lisle Bowles
Music
O harmony! thou tenderest nurse of pain,If that thy note's sweet magic e'er can healGriefs which the patient spirit oft may feel,Oh! let me listen to..
© William Lisle Bowles