Poetry Catalog

Affections lose their object; Time brings forthNo successors; and, lodged in memory,If love exist no longer, it must die,Wanting accustomed food, must pass from earth,Or never hope to reach a second birth.This sad belief, the happiest that is leftTo thousands, share not Thou; howe'er bereft,Scorned, or neglected, fear not such a dearth.Though poor and destitute of friends thou … [Read more...] about Sonnet – To An Octogenarian, By: William Wordsworth

Why should we weep or mourn, Angelic boy,For such thou wert ere from our sight removed,Holy, and ever dutiful belovedFrom day to day with never-ceasing joy,And hopes as dear as could the heart employIn aught to earth pertaining? Death has provedHis might, nor less his mercy, as behoved,Death conscious that he only could destroyThe bodily frame. That beauty is laid lowTo moulder … [Read more...] about Sonnet, By: William Wordsworth

Though the torrents from their fountainsRoar down many a craggy steep,Yet they find among the mountainsResting-places calm and deep. Clouds that love through air to hasten,Ere the storm its fury stills,Helmet-like themselves will fastenOn the heads of towering hills. What, if through the frozen centreOf the Alps the Chamois bound,Yet he has a home to enterIn some nook of … [Read more...] about Song Of The Wandering Jew, By: William Wordsworth

Isn’t this what we alwaysdo in a strange city? Beforewe leave the hotel, I studyan A to Z, check google map,try to remember all the streetnames, every twist and turn.You type the destinationin a search engine, press ‘go’,and follow it like a religion.We stay on the pavement, side-tracked by this or that shop, lostin signs we can’t decipher.The city opens its heart to us,traffic … [Read more...] about Tourists, By: Hongwei Bao

Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel!Night has brought the welcome hour,When the weary fingers feelHelp, as if from faery power;Dewy night o'ershades the ground;Turn the swift wheel round and round! Now, beneath the starry sky,Couch the widely-scattered sheep;Ply the pleasant labour, ply!For the spindle, while they sleep,Runs with speed more smooth and fine,Gathering up a … [Read more...] about Song Of The Spinning Wheel, By: William Wordsworth