Famous Shapen Poems by Famous Poets

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• Best Shapen Poems by Members
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Minstrelsy

 For ever, since my childish looks
Could rest on Nature's pictured books;
For ever, since my childish tongue
Could name the themes our bards have sung;
So long, the sweetness of their singing
Hath been to me a rapture bringing!
Yet ask me not the reason why
I have delight in minstrelsy.

I know that much whereof I sing,
Is shapen but for vanishing;
I know that summer's flower...Read more of this...

Michael-Angelo

God shook thy roundness in His finger's cup,
He sunk His hands in firmness down thy sides,
And drew the circle of His grasp, O Man,
Along thy limbs delighted, thine, His bride's.

And so thou wert God-shapen: His finger
Curved thy mouth for thee, and His strong shoulder
Planted thee upright: art not proud to see
In the curve of thine exquisite form the joy of...Read more of this...

Dreams Nascent

 My world is a painted fresco, where coloured shapes 
Of old, ineffectual lives linger blurred and warm; 
An endless tapestry the past has women drapes 
The halls of my life, compelling my soul to conform. 

The surface of dreams is broken,
The picture of the past is shaken and scattered. 
Fluent, active figures of men pass along the railway, and...Read more of this...

The Cry Of The Children

 Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers,
And that cannot stop their tears.
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows,
The young birds are chirping in the nest,
The young fawns are playing with the shadows,
The young flowers are blowing toward the west— 
But the young, young...Read more of this...

Hertha

 I AM that which began; 
 Out of me the years roll; 
 Out of me God and man; 
 I am equal and whole; 
God changes, and man, and the form of them bodily; I am the soul. 

 Before ever land was, 
 Before ever the sea, 
 Or soft hair of the grass, 
 Or fair...Read more of this...

Hymn to Love

 We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,
As théou, Léove, were the déep thought
And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,
Thy fires of thought out-spoken: 

But burn’d not through us thy imagining
Like fiérce méood in a séong céaught,
We were as clamour’d words a fool may fling,
Loose words, of meaning broken. 

For what...Read more of this...

The Nightingales Nest

 Up this green woodland-ride let's softly rove,
And list the nightingale— she dwells just here.
Hush ! let the wood-gate softly clap, for fear
The noise might drive her from her home of love ;
For here I've heard her many a merry year—
At morn, at eve, nay, all the live-long day,
As though she lived on song. This very spot,
Just where that old-man's-beard...Read more of this...

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