En son içerik ekleyen üyeler(resimli) | Hemen üye ol, seçkin bir ortama katıl!
aslan_beyaslan_bey
,
mahmutcantekinmahmut...
, ADIYAMAN/
Seyfi KaracaSeyfi ...
45, Bad walds
eynazendeeynazende
, Kırşehi
drozakdrozak
48, yalova
Mühendis- i CümleMühen...
23, istanbul
KILIÇ KESKİNKILIÇ...
56, denizli
kemaldoganaykemald...
59, Tokat Zil

Publish Your Poems, Quotes, Lyrics and more...

Publish Your Poems, Quotes, Lyrics, Videos, Jokes and more for FREE...
Create new account for free

Poets

Mine

Mine by the right of the white election !
Mine by the royal seal !
Mine by the sign in the scarlet prison
Bars cannot conceal !

Mine, hear in vision and in veto!
Mine, by the grave's repeal

She Came and Went

As a twig trembles, which a bird
Lights on to sing, then leaves unbent,
So is my memory thrilled and stirred;—
I only know she came and went.

As clasps some lake, by gusts unriven,

Rest

A rest remaineth; is then rest so good?
The hope of weariness, a promise sweet
To labouring souls, but wherefore rest in Heaven?

Deeper than any thought of man,
Sweeter than any dream of man,

The Return of Hyperion

The dungeon-clefts of Tartarus
Are close beyond the mountains
That are bound like a giant's girdle
About the unstirred, unbreathing east.
Alike on mountain and plain

The tower-room

There is a room serene and fair,
All palpitant with light and air;
Free from the dust, world’s noise and fuss -
God’s Tower-room in each of us.

Oh! many a stair our feet must press,

Most blest is he

Most blest is he who in the morning time
Sets forth upon his journey with no staff
Shaped by another for his use. Who sees
The imminent necessity for toil,

Peace should not come

Peace should not come along this foul, earth way.
Peace should not come, until we cleanse the path.
God waited for us; now in awful wrath
He pours the blood of men out day by day

On the Sea

It keeps eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.

Past Carin

NOW up and down the siding brown
The great black crows are flyin’,
And down below the spur, I know,
Another ‘milker’s’ dyin’;
The crops have withered from the ground,

On The Same

Henry Fielding

WHILE men shun Oulus as a fool,
Dames prize him as a beau;
What judgment form we by this rule?
Why this it seems to shew.
Those apprehend the beau's a fool,

Syndicate content