The Song of Wandering Aengus by William Butler Yeats

The Song of Wandering Aengus

by William Butler Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

And cut and peeled a hazel wand,

And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,

And moth-like stars were flickering out,

I dropped the berry in a stream

And caught a little silver trout.

When I laid it on the floor

I went to blow the fire a-flame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And someone called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ran

And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done,

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

Great poetry is in the words a poet chooses. I love Yeats way with words. A link to learn more is here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/william-butler-yeats 

A Dream Pang by Robert Frost

A Dream Pang
by Robert Frost


I had withdrawn in forest, and my song
Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;
And to the forest edge you came one day
(This was my dream) and looked and pondered long,
But did not enter, though the wish was strong:
You shook your pensive head as who should say,
‘I dare not—too far in his footsteps stray—
He must seek me would he undo the wrong.

Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all
Behind low boughs the trees let down outside;
And the sweet pang it cost me not to call
And tell you that I saw does still abide.
But ’tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof. 


I love how he utilizes nature in his poems. A link to read more is here.http://www.poemhunter.com/robert-frost/

The Bait by John Donne

The Bait
by John Donne


Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.

There will the river whispering run,
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun.
And there the 'enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both;
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snare or windowy net.

Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,
Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait:
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.




Written in the 1600's, great old poem on love. A link to read more about this poet and his poems is here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/john-donne

Carrefour by Amy Lowell

Carrefour

by Amy Lowell

O You,

Who came upon me once

Stretched under apple-trees just after bathing,

Why did you not strangle me before speaking

Rather than fill me with the wild white honey of your words

And then leave me to the mercy

Of the forest bees.

I love the imagery she wrote. A link here to read more.http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/435

Wish by Henri de Regnier

Wish 
by Henri de Regnier


I'd like to show your eyes the plains
And a forest green and ruddy,
Far off and soft
Under clear skies on the horizon,
Or some hills
With lovely slopes
So changing and supple and misty,
Seeming to melt in the sweetness of the air,
Either hills
Or forest.
I'd like
For you to hear
Strong, vast, deep, and tender,
The great dull voice of the sea
That moans
Like Love;
And once in a while
Right next to you,
In the interval,
I'd like you to hear
Right next to you
A dove
In the silence
Both soft and weak
Like Love a trifle in the shadows,
I'd like you to hear
The gushing of a spring
For your hands I'd like some flowers,
And for your steps
I'd like a little path, grassy and sandy
Going up a bit and coming down,
Turning and seeming
To approach the limits of silence.
A very little sandy path
Where your steps would leave faint marks,
Our steps
Together.


I think this is a sweet, beautiful poem. A link to read more is here. http://allpoetry.com/Henri_de_Regnier

Like Snow by Robert Graves

Like Snow
by Robert Graves


She, then, like snow in a dark night,
Fell secretly. And the world waked
With dazzling of the drowsy eye,
So that some muttered 'Too much light',
And drew the curtains close.
Like snow, warmer than fingers feared,
And to soil friendly;
Holding the histories of the night
In yet unmelted tracks.


I ran across this one today and loved it. A link to learn more is here.http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/robert-graves

The Tuft of Flowers by Robert Frost

The Tuft of Flowers

BY ROBERT FROST

I went to turn the grass once after one

Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.

The dew was gone that made his blade so keen

Before I came to view the levelled scene.

I looked for him behind an isle of trees;

I listened for his whetstone on the breeze.

But he had gone his way, the grass all mown,

And I must be, as he had been,—alone,

As all must be,' I said within my heart,

Whether they work together or apart.'

But as I said it, swift there passed me by

On noiseless wing a 'wildered butterfly,

Seeking with memories grown dim o'er night

Some resting flower of yesterday's delight.

And once I marked his flight go round and round,

As where some flower lay withering on the ground.

And then he flew as far as eye could see,

And then on tremulous wing came back to me.

I thought of questions that have no reply,

And would have turned to toss the grass to dry;

But he turned first, and led my eye to look

At a tall tuft of flowers beside a brook,

A leaping tongue of bloom the scythe had spared

Beside a reedy brook the scythe had bared.

I left my place to know them by their name,

Finding them butterfly weed when I came.

The mower in the dew had loved them thus,

By leaving them to flourish, not for us,

Nor yet to draw one thought of ours to him.

But from sheer morning gladness at the brim.

The butterfly and I had lit upon,

Nevertheless, a message from the dawn,

That made me hear the wakening birds around,

And hear his long scythe whispering to the ground,

And feel a spirit kindred to my own;

So that henceforth I worked no more alone;

But glad with him, I worked as with his aid,

And weary, sought at noon with him the shade;

And dreaming, as it were, held brotherly speech

With one whose thought I had not hoped to reach.

Men work together,' I told him from the heart,

Whether they work together or apart.'

A poem I can read and savor. A link to learn more is 

here.http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/robert-frost

The Clouded Morning by Jones Very

The Clouded Morning

BY JONES VERY

The morning comes, and thickening clouds prevail,

    Hanging like curtains all the horizon round,

Or overhead in heavy stillness sail;

    So still is day, it seems like night profound;

Scarce by the city’s din the air is stirred,

    And dull and deadened comes its every sound;

The cock’s shrill, piercing voice subdued is heard,

    By the thick folds of muffling vapors drowned.

Dissolved in mists the hills and trees appear,

    Their outlines lost and blended with the sky;

And well-known objects, that to all are near,

    No longer seem familiar to the eye,

But with fantastic forms they mock the sight,

As when we grope amid the gloom of night.

I've known mornings like this when a storm is approaching. A link to learn more is here. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jones_Very

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

One of the best poems ever. Quiet and thoughtful. A link to read more is here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/robert-frost

On Looking Up By Chance At The Constellations by Robert Frost

On Looking Up By Chance At The Constellations
by Robert Frost


You'll wait a long, long time for anything much
To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud
And the Northern Lights that run like tingling nerves.
The sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch,
Nor strike out fire from each other nor crash out loud.
The planets seem to interfere in their curves -
But nothing ever happens, no harm is done.
We may as well go patiently on with our life,
And look elsewhere than to stars and moon and sun
For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane.
It is true the longest drought will end in rain,
The longest peace in China will end in strife.
Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake
In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break
On his particular time and personal sight.
That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night.


A master of imagery, line three is a favorite of mine. A link to read more is here.http://allpoetry.com/Robert_Frost

Prairie Waters by Night by Carl Sandburg

Prairie Waters by Night
by Carl Sandburg




Chatter of birds two by two raises a night song joining a litany of running water—sheer waters
showing the russet of old stones remembering many rains.

And the long willows drowse on the shoulders of the running water, and sleep from much music;
joined songs of day-end, feathery throats and stony waters, in a choir chanting new psalms.

It is too much for the long willows when low laughter of a red moon comes down; and the willows
drowse and sleep on the shoulders of the running water




Reading this I want to lay down and look at the stars. A link to read more is here.http://allpoetry.com/Carl_Sandburg

Evening by H.D.

Evening

BY H. D.

The light passes

from ridge to ridge,

from flower to flower—

the hepaticas, wide-spread

under the light

grow faint—

the petals reach inward,

the blue tips bend

toward the bluer heart

and the flowers are lost.

The cornel-buds are still white,

but shadows dart

from the cornel-roots—

black creeps from root to root,

each leaf

cuts another leaf on the grass,

shadow seeks shadow,

then both leaf

and leaf-shadow are lost.

Descriptive, but, reading the words it seems more. Lovely. A link is here to read more. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/h-d

Winter Stars by Sara Teasdale

Winter Stars

BY SARA TEASDALE

I went out at night alone;

 The young blood flowing beyond the sea

Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings—

 I bore my sorrow heavily.

But when I lifted up my head

 From shadows shaken on the snow,

I saw Orion in the east

 Burn steadily as long ago.

From windows in my father’s house,

 Dreaming my dreams on winter nights,

I watched Orion as a girl

 Above another city’s lights.

Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too,

 The world’s heart breaks beneath its wars,

All things are changed, save in the east

 The faithful beauty of the stars.

Wonderful rhyme. A link to read more is here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/sara-teasdale

Star Thought by Frances Shaw

Star Thought
by Frances Shaw

I shall see a star tonight
From a distant mountain height;
From a city you will see
The same star that shines on me.

'Tis not of the firmament
On a solar journey bent;
Fixed it is through time and weather;-
'Tis a thought we hold together.

Who hasn't looked at the sky and thought about this. Image borrowed from The Gaurdian. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse/21/6#

Tall Ambrosia By Henry David Thoreau

Tall Ambrosia

BY HENRY DAVID THOREAU

Among the signs of autumn I perceive

The Roman wormwood (called by learned men

Ambrosia elatior, food for gods,—

For to impartial science the humblest weed

Is as immortal once as the proudest flower—)

Sprinkles its yellow dust over my shoes

As I cross the now neglected garden.

—We trample under foot the food of gods

And spill their nectar in each drop of dew—

My honest shoes, fast friends that never stray

Far from my couch, thus powdered, countryfied,

Bearing many a mile the marks of their adventure,

At the post-house disgrace the Gallic gloss

Of those well dressed ones who no morning dew

Nor Roman wormwood ever have been through,

Who never walk but are transported rather—

For what old crime of theirs I do not gather.

I enjoy reading this. Simple but more. A link to read more is here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/henry-david-thoreau

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Wonderful imagery and so sweet. A link to read more is here. http://www.online-literature.com/wordsworth/

Four-Leaf Clover by Ella Higginson

Four-Leaf Clover

BY ELLA HIGGINSON

I know a place where the sun is like gold,

   And the cherry blooms burst with snow,

And down underneath is the loveliest nook,

   Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

One leaf is for hope, and one is for faith,

   And one is for love, you know,

And God put another in for luck—

   If you search, you will find where they grow.

But you must have hope, and you must have faith,

   You must love and be strong – and so—

If you work, if you wait, you will find the place

      Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

A lovely sweet poem. A link to learn more is here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/ella-higginson

Reluctance by Robert Frost

Reluctance 

by Robert Frost

Out through the fields and the woods

   And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

   And looked at the world, and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

   And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,

   Save those that the oak is keeping

To ravel them one by one

   And let them go scraping and creeping

Out over the crusted snow,

   When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

   No longer blown hither and thither;

The last lone aster is gone;

   The flowers of the witch hazel wither;

The heart is still aching to seek,

   But the feet question ‘Whither?’

Ah, when to the heart of man

   Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

   To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

   Of a love or a season?

Great set up and delivery. To learn more a link here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/robert-frost

At the Sea-Side by Robert Louis Stevenson

At the Sea-Side

BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

When I was down beside the sea

A wooden spade they gave to me

   To dig the sandy shore.

My holes were empty like a cup.

In every hole the sea came up

   Till it could come no more.

Enchanting and delightful. A link to read more is here. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/robert-louis-stevenson