Poetry Links
Jan. 20th, 2006 09:34 pmAn Interlude by Algernon Charles Swinburne.
Excerpt:
"Your feet in the full-grown grasses
Moved soft as a weak wind blows;
You passed me as April passes,
With face made out of a rose."
Platonic by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Excerpt:
"I knew it the first of the summer,
I knew it the same at the end,
That you and your love were plighted,
But couldn’t you be my friend?
Couldn’t we sit in the twilight,
Couldn’t we walk on the shore
With only a pleasant friendship
To bind us, and nothing more?"
Bereft, by Robert Frost.
Excerpt:
"Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God."
Autumn Journal, by Louis MacNeice.
Excerpt:
"September has come, it is hers,
.....Whose vitality leaps in the autumn,
Whose nature prefers
.....Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;
So I give her this month and the next
.....Though the whole of my year should be hers who has rendered already
So many of its days intolerable or perplexed
.....But so many more so happy;
Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
.....Dancing over and over with her shadow,
Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
.....And all of London littered with remembered kisses."
Excerpt:
"Your feet in the full-grown grasses
Moved soft as a weak wind blows;
You passed me as April passes,
With face made out of a rose."
Platonic by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Excerpt:
"I knew it the first of the summer,
I knew it the same at the end,
That you and your love were plighted,
But couldn’t you be my friend?
Couldn’t we sit in the twilight,
Couldn’t we walk on the shore
With only a pleasant friendship
To bind us, and nothing more?"
Bereft, by Robert Frost.
Excerpt:
"Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God."
Autumn Journal, by Louis MacNeice.
Excerpt:
"September has come, it is hers,
.....Whose vitality leaps in the autumn,
Whose nature prefers
.....Trees without leaves and a fire in the fire-place;
So I give her this month and the next
.....Though the whole of my year should be hers who has rendered already
So many of its days intolerable or perplexed
.....But so many more so happy;
Who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
.....Dancing over and over with her shadow,
Whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
.....And all of London littered with remembered kisses."