A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
As some fond virgin, whom her mother’s care
Drags from the town to wholesome country air,
Just when she learns to roll a melting eye,
And hear a spark, yet think no danger nigh;
From the dear man unwilling she must sever,
Yet takes one kiss before she parts for ever:
Thus from the world fair Zephalinda flew,
Saw others happy, and with sighs withdrew;
Not that their pleasures caused her discontent,
She sigh’d not that they staid, but that she went.
She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-fashion’d halls, dull aunts, and croaking rooks:
She went from opera, park, assembly, play,
To morning-walks, and prayers three hours a-day:
To part her time ‘twixt reading and bohea,
To muse, and spill her solitary tea;
Or o’er cold coffee trifle with the spoon,
Count the slow clock, and dine exact at noon;
Divert her eyes with pictures in the fire,
Hum half a tune, tell stories to the ‘squire;
Up to her godly garret after seven,
There starve and pray, for that’s the way to heaven.
Some ‘squire, perhaps, you take delight to rack;
Whose game is whist, whose treat, a toast in sack;
Who visits with a gun, presents you birds,
Then gives a smacking buss, and cries–No words!
Or with his hound comes hallooing from the stable,
Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a table;
Whose laughs are hearty, though his jests are coarse,
And loves you best of all things–but his horse.
In some fair evening, on your elbow laid,
You dream of triumphs in the rural shade;
In pensive thought recall the fancied scene,
See coronations rise on every green;
Before you pass the imaginary sights
Of lords, and earls, and dukes, and garter’d knights,
While the spread fan o’ershades your closing eyes;
Then give one flirt, and all the vision flies.
Thus vanish sceptres, coronets, and balls,
And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls!
So when your slave, at some dear idle time,
(Not plagued with headaches, or the want of rhyme)
Stands in the streets, abstracted from the crew,
And while he seems to study, thinks of you;
Just when his fancy paints your sprightly eyes,
Or sees the blush of soft Parthenia rise,
Gay pats my shoulder, and you vanish quite,
Streets, chairs, and coxcombs rush upon my sight;
Vex’d to be still in town, I knit my brow,
Look sour, and hum a tune, as you do now.
A few random poems:
- South Africa by Ronald G. Auguste
- Public Waste by Rudyard Kipling
- Teaching Children to Write by Free Writing
- Summer – The Second Pastoral; or Alexis poem – Alexander Pope
- Hymn poem – A. R. Ammons poems | Poetry Monster
- The Ugly Little Bird
- Race of Veterans. by Walt Whitman
- Ballade Of Cleopatra’s Needle poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Time by Vladimir Marku
- Sonnet 39: O, how thy worth with manners may I sing by William Shakespeare
- Attempted Assassination of the Queen by William Topaz McGonagall
- To All and Everything by Vladimir Mayakovsky
- Robert Burns: Verses Written With A Pencil Over the Chimney-piece in the Parlour of the Inn at Kenmore, Taymouth.:
- Владимир Маяковский – Сердитый дядя
- I Belong There by Mahmoud Darwish
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Владимир Высоцкий – Тоска немая гложет иногда
- Владимир Высоцкий – То бишь о чём
- Владимир Высоцкий – Тексты для капустника к 5-летию Театра на Таганке
- Владимир Высоцкий – Татуировка
- Владимир Высоцкий – Там были генеральши, были жёны офицеров
- Владимир Высоцкий – Так оно и есть
- Владимир Высоцкий – Сыт я по горло, до подбородка
- Владимир Высоцкий – Схвати судьбу за горло, словно посох
- Владимир Высоцкий – Свой остров
- Владимир Высоцкий – Свет потушите, вырубите звук
- Владимир Высоцкий – Странная сказка
- Владимир Высоцкий – Старательская
- Владимир Высоцкий – Сорняков, когда созреют
- Владимир Высоцкий – Снова печь барахлит, тут рублей не жалей
- Владимир Высоцкий – Снег скрипел подо мной
- Владимир Высоцкий – Смотрины
- Владимир Высоцкий – Случай на таможне
- Владимир Высоцкий – Случай
- Владимир Высоцкий – Слева бесы, справа бесы
- Владимир Высоцкий – Сколько я, сколько я видел на свете их
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
