A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
Tho’ Artemisia talks, by fits,
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke;
Yet in some things methinks she fails,
‘Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock.
Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Such nastiness, and so much pride
Are oddly join’d by fate:
On her large squab you find her spread,
Like a fat corpse upon a bed,
That lies and stinks in state.
She wears no colours (sign of grace)
On any part except her face;
All white and black beside:
Dauntless her look, her gesture proud,
Her voice theatrically loud,
And masculine her stride.
So have I seen, in black and white
A prating thing, a Magpye hight,
Majestically stalk;
A stately, worthless animal,
That plies the tongue, and wags the tail,
All flutter, pride, and talk.
A few random poems:
- Evenèn Twilight by William Barnes
- Memorial Tablet by Siegfried Sassoon
- The Weepen Leady by William Barnes
- He Tells Of A Valley Full Of Lovers by William Butler Yeats
- Epitaph on John Rankine by Robert Burns
- The Friend by Marge Piercy
- Николай Тихонов – Когда уйду
- Юлия Друнина – Елка
- On A Celebrated Event In Ancient History by William Wordsworth
- Федор Сваровский – Об удивительном
- Late September poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Life Of a Broke Person by Russell James
- Roar Shack poem – Alice Fulton poems | Poetry Monster
- Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault by William Shakespeare
- For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her by William Strode
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
- I Heard You, Solemn-sweet Pipes of the Organ. by Walt Whitman
- I hear it was Charged against Me. by Walt Whitman
- I Hear America Singing. by Walt Whitman
- I Dream’d in a Dream. by Walt Whitman
- I am He that Aches with Love. by Walt Whitman
- Hush’d be the Camps To-day. by Walt Whitman
- How Solemn as One by One. by Walt Whitman
- Hours Continuing Long. by Walt Whitman
- Here the Frailest Leaves of Me. by Walt Whitman
- Here, Sailor. by Walt Whitman
- Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour. by Walt Whitman
- Great are the Myths. by Walt Whitman
- Gods. by Walt Whitman
- Gliding Over All. by Walt Whitman
- Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun. by Walt Whitman
- Germs. by Walt Whitman
- Full of Life, Now. by Walt Whitman
- From Paumanok Starting. by Walt Whitman
- From My Last Years. by Walt Whitman
- From Far Dakota’s Cañons. by Walt Whitman
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
