The Poem Reader

In today’s correspondence a poetry book detailing the lives of British Queens— with a note enclosed and a question: what does it mean to be a Queen?   I could reply and say— this precious stone set in a silver sea: a symbol, like a banner, for mens’ love. But these are not my words.   I could reply and say— glorying in the glories of my people, sorrowing with the sorrows of the lowest. But these a...

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the wayWith blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule,The village master taught his little school;A man severe he was, and stern to view,I knew him well, and every truant knew;Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to traceThe days disasters in his morning face;Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee,At all his jokes...

And did those feet in ancient timeWalk upon Englands mountains green:And was the holy Lamb of God,On Englands pleasant pastures seen! And did the Countenance Divine,Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here,Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my Bow of burning gold:Bring me my arrows of desire:Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold! Bring me my Chariot of fire! I will not...

I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every blackning Church appalls; And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. But most...

S ometime when you’re feeling important;Sometime when your ego’s in bloomSometime when you take it for grantedYou’re the best qualified in the room, S ometime when you feel that your goingWould leave an unfillable hole,Just follow these simple instructionsAnd see how they humble your soul; T ake a bucket and fill it with water,Put your hand in it up to the wrist,Pull it out and the hole that’s rem...

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the l...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally la...

The rain set early in to-night,     The sullen wind was soon awake,It tore the elm-tops down for spite,       And did its worst to vex the lake:       I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight       She shut the cold out and the storm,And kneeled and made the cheerless grate       Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;       Which done, she rose, and from her formWithdrew...

IHalf a league, half a league,Half a league onward,All in the valley of Death   Rode the six hundred.“Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!” he said. Into the valley of Death   Rode the six hundred. II“Forward, the Light Brigade!”Was there a man dismayed? Not though the soldier knew   Someone had blundered.   Theirs not to make reply,   Theirs not to reason why,   Theirs but to do and d...

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,What strenuous singles we played after tea,We in the tournament - you against me! Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,How mad...

All the world's a stage,And all the men and women merely players:They have their exits and their entrances;And one man in his time plays many parts,His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel,And shining morning face, creeping like snailUnwillingly to school. And then the lover,Sighing like furnace, with a...

Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, Lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than em...

Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the h...

I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedest...

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hol...

Maud Muller, on a summer's day,Raked the meadows sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealthOf simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry gleeThe mock-bird echoed from his tree. But, when she glanced to the far-off town,White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrestAnd a nameless longing filled her breast-- A wish, that she hard...

They f**k you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern And half at one another’s throats. Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, And don’t have any k...

Turning and turning in the widening gyreThe falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The...

It is always a temptation to an armed and agile nationTo call upon a neighbour and to say: --"We invaded you last night--we are quite prepared to fight,Unless you pay us cash to go away."And that is called asking for Dane-geld,And the people who ask it explainThat you've only to pay 'em the Dane-geldAnd then you'll get rid of the Dane! It is always a temptation for a rich and lazy nation,To puff a...