Sonnet XXXVI: Lead Me, Sicilian Maids

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet XXXVI Let me confess that we two must be twain, Although our undivided loves are one: So shall those blots that do with me remain Without thy help by me be borne alone. In our two loves there is but one respect, Though in our lives a separable spite, Which though it alter not love’s sole […]...
2. Sonnet XXXVI: Thou Purblind Boy Cupid Conjured Thou purblind boy, since thou hast been so slack To wound her heart, whose eyes have wounded me, And suffer’d her to glory in my wrack, Thus to my aid I lastly conjure thee: By hellish Styx, by which the Thund’rer swears, By thy fair mother’s unavoided power, By Hecate’s names, by Proserpine’s […]...
3. Swinging the Lead Said the soldier to the Surgeon, “I’ve got noises in me head And a kind o’ filled up feeling after every time I’m fed; I can sleep all night on picket, but I can’t sleep in my bed”. And the Surgeon said, “That’s Lead!” Said the soldier to the Surgeon, “Do you think they’ll send […]...
4. All Roads That Lead To God Are Good All roads that lead to God are good. What matters it, your faith, or mine? Both centre at the goal divine Of love’s eternal Brotherhood. The kindly life in house or street – The life of prayer and mystic rite – The student’s search for truth and light – These paths at one great Junction […]...
5. Sonnet VIII: Why, Through Each Aching Vein Why, through each aching vein, with lazy pace Thus steals the languid fountain of my heart, While, from its source, each wild convulsive start Tears the scorch’d roses from my burning face? In vain, O Lesbian Vales! your charms I trace; Vain is the poet’s theme, the sculptor’s art; No more the Lyre its magic […]...
6. Sonnet XV: Now, Round My Favour'd Grot Now, round my favor’d grot let roses rise, To strew the bank where Phaon wakes from rest; O! happy buds! to kiss his burning breast, And die, beneath the lustre of his eyes! Now, let the timbrels echo to the skies, Now damsels sprinkel cassia on his vest, With od’rous wreaths of constant myrtle drest, […]...
7. Sonnet XXXVI TEll me when shall these wearie woes haue end, Or shall their ruthlesse torment neuer cease: But al my dayes in pining languor spend, Without hope of aswagement or release. Is there no meanes for me to purchace peace, Or make agreement with her thrilling eyes: But that their cruelty doth still increace, And dayly […]...
8. Sonnet XVIII: Why Art Thou Chang'd? Why art thou chang’d? O Phaon! tell me why? Love flies reproach, when passion feels decay; Or, I would paint the raptures of that day, When, in sweet converse, mingling sigh with sigh, I mark’d the graceful languor of thine eye As on a shady bank entranc’d we lay: O! Eyes! whose beamy radiance stole […]...
9. Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain Thou leaden brain, which censur’st what I write, And say’st my lines be dull and do not move, I marvel not thou feel’st not my delight, Which never felt’st my fiery touch of love. But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv’d, Whose stomach unto gall hath turn’d thy food, Whose senses, like poor […]...
10. A Cap of Lead across the sky A Cap of Lead across the sky Was tight and surly drawn We could not find the mighty Face The Figure was withdrawn A Chill came up as from a shaft Our noon became a well A Thunder storm combines the charms Of Winter and of Hell....
11. Sonnet XIX: Farewell, Ye Coral Caves Farewell, ye coral caves, ye pearly sands, Ye waving woods that crown yon lofty steep; Farewell, ye Nereides of the glitt’ring deep, Ye mountain tribes, ye fawns, ye sylvan bands: On the bleak rock your frantic minstrel stands, Each task forgot, save that, to sigh and weep; In vain the strings her burning fingers sweep, […]...
12. Sonnet XVII: Love Steals Unheeded Love steals unheeded o’er the tranquil mind, As Summer breezes fan the sleeping main, Slow through each fibre creeps the subtle pain, ‘Till closely round the yielding bosom twin’d. Vain is the hope the magic to unbind, The potent mischief riots in the brain, Grasps ev’ry thought, and burns in ev’ry vein, ‘Till in the […]...
13. Lead Soldiers The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful Little explosions And trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. Miniature Rockets Peppering the black bricks with golden stars, as though a gala Flamed a night of victorious wars. The nodding mandarin on the bookcase moves his Head forward and back, slowly, And looks into […]...
14. Stout Marches Lead To Certain Ends STOUT marches lead to certain ends, We seek no Holy Grail, my friends – That dawn should find us every day Some fraction farther on our way. The dumb lands sleep from east to west, They stretch and turn and take their rest. The cock has crown in the steading-yard, But priest and people slumber […]...
15. Sonnet 11: As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st In one of thine, from that which thou departest, And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st, Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest. Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase; Without this folly, age, and cold decay, If all were minded so, the […]...
16. Sonnet XXIV: O Thou! Meek Orb O thou! meek Orb! that stealing o’er the dale Cheer’st with thy modest beams the noon of night! On the smooth lake diffusing silv’ry light, Sublimely still, and beautifully pale! What can thy cool and placid eye avail, Where fierce despair absorbs the mental sight, While inbred glooms the vagrant thoughts invite, To tempt the […]...
17. Sonnet XXXIV: Charm'd by Thy Suffrage Charm’d by thy suffrage, shall I yet aspire (All inauspicious as my fate appears, By troubles darken’d, that encrease with years,) To guide the crayon, or to touch the lyre? Ah me! – the sister Muses still require A spirit free from all intrusive fears, Nor will they deign to wipe away the tears Of […]...
18. Sonnet LXIV: No More, My Dear No more, my dear, no more these counsels try; Oh, give my passions leave to run their race; Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace; Let folk o’ercharg’d with brain against me cry; Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye; Let me no steps but of lost labour trace; Let all the […]...
19. Sonnet IX: As Other Men As other men, so I myself do muse Why in this sort I wrest invention so, And why these giddy metaphors I use, Leaving the path the greater part do go. I will resolve you: I am lunatic, And ever this in madmen you shall find, What they last thought of when the brain grew […]...
20. Sonnet XXV: Can'st Thou Forget Can’st thou forget, O! Idol of my Soul! Thy Sappho’s voice, her form, her dulcet Lyre! That melting ev’ry thought to fond desire, Bade sweet delerium o’er thy senses roll? Can’st thou, so soon, renounce the blest control That calm’d with pity’s tears love’s raging fire, While Hope, slow breathing on the trembling wire, In […]...
21. Sonnet XLII: Oh! Canst Thou Bear Oh! can’st thou bear to see this faded frame, Deform’d and mangled by the rocky deep? Wilt thou remember, and forbear to weep, My fatal fondness, and my peerless fame? Soon o’er this heart, now warm with passion’s flame, The howling winds and foamy waves shall sweep; Those eyes be ever clos’d in death’s cold […]...
22. Sonnet IX: Ye, Who in Alleys Green Ye, who in alleys green and leafy bow’rs, Sport, the rude children of fantastic birth; Where frolic nymphs, and shaggy tribes of mirth, In clam’rous revels waste the midnight hours; Who, link’d in flaunting bands of mountain flow’rs, Weave your wild mazes o’er the dewy earth, Ere the fierce Lord of Lustre rushes forth, And […]...
23. Sonnet XXXVIII: Oh Sigh Oh Sigh! thou steal’st, the herald of the breast, The lover’s fears, the lover’s pangs to tell; Thou bid’st with timid grace the bosom swell, Cheating the day of joy, the night of rest! Oh! lucid Tears! with eloquence confest, Why on my fading cheek unheeded dwell, Meek, as the dew-drops on the flowret’s bell […]...
24. SICILIAN SONG YE black and roguish eyes, If ye command. Each house in ruins lies, No town can stand. And shall my bosom’s chain, This plaster wall, Д To think one moment, deign, Shall ii not fall? 1811....
25. Sicilian Lullaby Hush, little one, and fold your hands; The sun hath set, the moon is high; The sea is singing to the sands, And wakeful posies are beguiled By many a fairy lullaby: Hush, little child, my little child! Dream, little one, and in your dreams Float upward from this lowly place, Float out on mellow, […]...
26. Sonnet IV: Why, When I Gaze Why, when I gaze on Phaon’s beauteous eyes, Why does each thought in wild disorder stray? Why does each fainting faculty decay, And my chill’d breast in throbbing tumults rise? Mute, on the ground my Lyre neglected lies, The Muse forgot, and lost the melting lay; My down-cast looks, my faultering lips betray, That stung […]...
27. Sonnet XLI Those petty wrongs that liberty commits, When I am sometime absent from thy heart, Thy beauty and thy years full well befits, For still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art and therefore to be won, Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed; And when a woman woos, what woman’s son Will sourly leave […]...
28. Maids In May Three maids there were in meadow bright, The eldest less then seven; Their eyes were dancing with delight, And innocent as Heaven. Wild flowers they wound with tender glee, Their cheeks with rapture rosy; All radiant they smiled at me, When I besought a posy. She gave me a columbine, And one a poppy brought […]...
29. Sonnet to Amicus WHOE’ER thou art, whose soul-enchanting song Steals on the sullen ear of pensive woe; To whom the sounds of melody belong, Sounds, that can more than human bliss bestow; Like the wak’d God of day, whose rays pervade The spangled veil of night, and fling their fires O’er the cold bosom of the em’rald glade, […]...
30. TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD Come, sit we under yonder tree, Where merry as the maids we’ll be; And as on primroses we sit, We’ll venture, if we can, at wit; If not, at draw-gloves we will play, So spend some minutes of the day; Or else spin out the thread of sands, Playing at questions and commands: Or tell […]...
31. Sonnet 41: Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits When I am sometime absent from thy heart, Thy beauty and thy years full well befits, For still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won; Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed; And when a woman woos, what woman’s son Will sourly leave […]...
32. Scab Maids On Speed My first job was when I was about 15. I had met A girl named Hope who became my best friend. Hope and I were flunking math Class so we became speed freaks. This honed our algebra skills and we quickly Became whiz kids. For about 5 minutes. Then, our brains started to fry And […]...
33. Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine So, now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still. But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous, and he is kind, He learned but surety-like […]...
34. Sonnet CXXXIV So, now I have confess’d that he is thine, And I myself am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still: But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous and he is kind; He learn’d but surety-like to […]...
35. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet III Oh he is worn with toil! the big drops run Down his dark cheek; hold hold thy merciless hand, Pale tyrant! for beneath thy hard command O’erwearied Nature sinks. The scorching Sun, As pityless as proud Prosperity, Darts on him his full beams; gasping he lies Arraigning with his looks the patient skies, While that […]...
36. Sonnet I: Favour'd by Heav'n Favour’d by Heav’n are those, ordain’d to taste The bliss supreme that kindles fancy’s fire; Whose magic fingers sweep the muses’ lyre, In varying cadence, eloquently chaste! Well may the mind, with tuneful numbers grac’d, To Fame’s immortal attributes aspire, Above the treach’rous spells of low desire, That wound the sense, by vulgar joys debas’d. […]...
37. Sonnet 22 XXII Cyriac, this three years’ day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heav’n’s hand or will, […]...
38. Sonnet XCVI Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness; Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport; Both grace and faults are loved of more and less; Thou makest faults graces that to thee resort. As on the finger of a throned queen The basest jewel will be well esteem’d, So are those errors that […]...
39. Sonnet 96: Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness; Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport; Both grace and faults are loved of more and less; Thou mak’st faults graces that to thee resort. As on the finger of a thronèd queen, The basest jewel will be well esteemed. So are those errors that […]...
40. Sonnet XI As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest In one of thine, from that which thou departest; And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowest Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest. Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase: Without this, folly, age and cold decay: If all were minded so, the […]...