The experience of each new age requires a new confession, and the world seems always waiting for its poet.

Incense Man

As the tall, turbaned Black, incense man Passed the house I called after him And ran out to the street Where at once we smiled Seeing one another And without a word Like a...

By Samuel Menashe
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09 September

History

I am the owner of the sphere, Of the seven stars and the solar year, of Caesar's hand, and Plato's brain, Of Lord Christ's heart, and Shakespeare's strain. Ralph Waldo...

By Ralph Waldo Emerson
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08 September

A Thief of Fire!

The first study for the man who wants to be a poet is knowledge of himself, complete: he searches for his soul, he inspects it, he...

By Rimbaud
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07 September

The Dead

I SEE them,—crowd on crowd they walk the earth, Dry leafless trees no autumn wind laid bare; And in their nakedness find cause for mirth, And all unclad would...

By Jones Very
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05 September

I Dye Alive

O LIFE! what letts thee from a quicke decease? O death! what drawes thee from a present praye? My feast is done, my soule would be at ease, My...

By Robert Southwell
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03 September

When we Two Parted

WHEN we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the...

By Lord Byron
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02 September

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half...

By Percy Shelley
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01 September

The Song of Despair

The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea. Deserted like the wharves at dawn. It is the hour...

By Pablo Neruda
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31 August

Interior

It sheds a shy solemnity, This lamp in our poor room. O grey and gold amenity, -- Silence and gentle gloom! Wide from the world, a stolen hour We claim, and...

By Hart Crane
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30 August