Good Poetry From Various People
As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity.
The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber
burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning.
So one generation of men will grow while another
Then it's Tommy this an' Tommy that an'
"Tommy, ow's yr soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes when the
drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums
begin to roll.
For me, I know nought; nothing I deny,
Admit, reject, condemn; and what know you
Except perhaps that you were born to die?
Lord Byron, Don Juan, XI
The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; -on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched sand,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
I loved you;
it may be that love has not completely
died in my soul;
but do not let it trouble you any more;
I do not wish to sadden you in any way.
I loved you silently, hopelessly,
tormented now by diffidence and
now by jealousy;
I loved you so truly, so tenderly
as God may grant you to be loved by another.