Poetry

The Choice By  William Butler Yeats The intellect of man is forced to choose Perfection of the life, or of the work, And if it take the second must r…

His Phoenix By William Butler Yeats There is a queen in China, or maybe it’s in Spain, And birthdays and holidays such praises can be heard Of her un…

John Anderson (1) By  Robert Burns John Anderson, my jo, John,     When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven,     Your bonnie brow w…

Roses and Butterflies By Victor Hugo The grave receives us all:     Ye butterflies and roses gay and sweet Why do ye linger, say?     …

My Heart’s in the Highlands (1) By  Robert Burns My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; A…

Rose Pogonias By  Robert Lee Frost A Saturated meadow,     Sun-shaped and jewel-small, A circle scarcely wider     Than the trees around were tall; W…

A Poet to His Beloved By William Butler Yeats I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams, White woman that passion h…

Her Dream By  William Butler Yeats I dreamed as in my bed I lay, All night’s fathomless wisdom come, That I had shorn my locks away And laid them on …

Early Love Revisited By  Victor Hugo I have wished in the grief of my heart to know     If the vase yet treasured that nectar so clear, And to see wh…

Song of Love By Victor Hugo If there be a velvet sward     By dewdrops pearly drest, Where through all seasons fairies guard     Flowe…

Love's Treacherous Pool By  Victor Hugo Young maiden, true love is a pool all mirroring clear,     Where coquettish girls come to linger in long …

A Love Song By  Duncan Campbell Scott I gave her a rose in early June, Fed with the sun and the dew, Each petal I said is a note in the tune, The ros…

The Pity of Love By William Butler Yeats A pity beyond all telling Is hid in the heart of love: The folk who are buying and selling, …