Poems
02.09.2010 / 19.20 pm
 
by James Kenneth Stephen
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I am not ambitious at all:
I am not a poet, I know
(Though I do love to see a mere scrawl
To order and symmetry grow).
My muse is uncertain and slow,
I am not expert with my tools,
I lack the poetic argot:
But I hope I have kept to the rules.

When your brain is undoubtedly small,
'Tis hard, sir, to write in a row,
Some five or six rhymes to Nepaul,
And more than a dozen to Joe:
The metre is easier though,
Three rhymes are sufficient for 'ghouls,'
My lines are deficient in go,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.

Unable to fly let me crawl,
Your patronage kindly bestow:
I am not the author of Saul,
I am not Voltaire or Rousseau:
I am not desirous, oh no!
To rise from the ranks of the fools,
To shine with Gosse, Dobson and Co.:
But I hope I have kept to the rules.

Dear Sir, though my language is low,
Let me dip in Pierian pools:
My verses are only so so,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.


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A Parodist's Apology

If I've dared laugh at you, Robert Browning,
'Tis with eyes that with you have often wept:
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England And America

1. ON A RHINE STEAMER.

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4th July 1882, Malines. Midnight

Belgian, with cumbrous tread and iron boots,
Who in the murky middle of the night,
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Arthur O'ShaughnessyArthur O'Shaughnessy (7)
(1844 - 1881)
Was a British poet, born in London to Irish parents
Amy LevyAmy Levy (11)
(1861 - 1889)
Was a British poet and novelist.
Alfred NoyesAlfred Noyes (7)
(1880 - 1958)
Was an English poet, best known for his ballads The Highwayman and The Barrel Organ.
Frances CornfordFrances Cornford (2)
(1886 - 1960)
Frances Crofts Cornford was an English poet. She was a granddaughter of the British naturalist Charles Darwin.

Childhood

Childhood, sweet and sunny childhood,
With its careless, thoughtless air,
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Saint, Revolutionist

Saint, revolutionist,
God and sage know well,
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Decade

When you came, you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Rating: 5.00
Votes: 1
 

Bereavement

How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner
As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier,
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Conference Of The Birds

'Attar began The Conference of the Birds (Mantiq al-tair) with an invocation praising the holy Creator in which he suggested that one must live a hundred lives to know oneself; but you must know God by the deity, not by yourself, for God opens the way, not human wisdom. 'Attar believed that God is beyond all human knowledge. The soul will manifest itself when the body is laid aside. One cannot gain spiritual knowledge without dying to all things. When the birds assemble, they wonder why they have no king. The Hoopoe presents herself as a messenger from the invisible world with knowledge of God and the secrets of creation. She recommends Simurgh as their true king, saying that one of his feathers fell on China.

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