Bassanio: This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
To excuse the current of thy cruelty.
Shylock: I am not bound to please thee with my answers.
line from The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1598)
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Thee, God, I Come from
Thee, God, I come from, to thee go,
All day long I like fountain flow
From thy hand out, swayed about
Mote-like in thy mighty glow.
What I know of thee I bless,
As acknowledging thy stress
On my being and as seeing
Something of thy holiness.
Once I turned from thee and hid,
Bound on what thou hadst forbid;
Sow the wind I would; I sinned:
I repent of what I did.
Bad I am, but yet thy child.
Father, be thou reconciled.
Spare thou me, since I see
With thy might that thou art mild.
I have life before me still
And thy purpose to fulfil;
Yea a debt to pay thee yet:
Help me, sir, and so I will.
But thou bidst, and just thou art,
Me shew mercy from my heart
Towards my brother, every other
Man my mate and counterpart.
. . . . . . . .
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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The Bracelet: To Julia
Why I tie about thy wrist,
Julia, this silken twist;
For what other reason 'tis
But to show thee how, in part,
Thou my pretty captive art?
But thy bond slave is my heart:
'tis but silk that bindeth thee,
Knap the thread and thou art free;
But 'tis otherwise with me:
-I am bound and fast bound, so
That from thee I cannot go;
If I could, I would not so.
poem by Robert Herrick
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The Bracelet To Julia
Why I tie about thy wrist,
Julia, this my silken twist?
For what other reason is't,
But to shew thee how in part
Thou my pretty captive art?
But thy bond-slave is my heart;
'Tis but silk that bindeth thee,
Knap the thread and thou art free;
But 'tis otherwise with me;
I am bound, and fast bound so,
That from thee I cannot go;
If I could, I would not so.
poem by Robert Herrick
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And Wilt Thou Leave Me Thus?
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay, for shame,
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among?
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart,
Nother for pain nor smart;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus
And have no more pity
Of him that loveth thee?
Hélas, thy cruelty!
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
poem by David McKee Wright
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And Wilt Thou Leave me Thus?
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay, for shame,
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among?
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart,
Nother for pain nor smart;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus
And have no more pity
Of him that loveth thee?
Hélas, thy cruelty!
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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The Appeal: An Earnest Suit to his Unkind Mistress, not to Forsake him
AND wilt thou leave me thus!
Say nay, say nay, for shame!
--To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame.
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among:
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart
Neither for pain nor smart:
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!
And wilt thou leave me thus,
And have no more pitye
Of him that loveth thee?
Alas, thy cruelty!
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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Under The Pressure Of Violent Anguish
O Thou Great Being! what Thou art,
Surpasses me to know;
Yet sure I am, that known to Thee
Are all Thy works below.
Thy creature here before Thee stands,
All wretched and distrest;
Yet sure those ills that wring my soul
Obey Thy high behest.
Sure, Thou, Almighty, canst not act
From cruelty or wrath!
O, free my weary eyes from tears,
Or close them fast in death!
But, if I must afflicted be,
To suit some wise design,
Then man my soul with firm resolves,
To bear and not repine!
poem by Robert Burns
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Prayer, Under The Pressure Of Violent Anguish
O Thou Great Being! what Thou art,
Surpasses me to know;
Yet sure I am, that known to Thee
Are all Thy works below.
Thy creature here before Thee stands,
All wretched and distrest;
Yet sure those ills that wring my soul
Obey Thy high behest.
Sure, Thou, Almighty, canst not act
From cruelty or wrath!
O, free my weary eyes from tears,
Or close them fast in death!
But, if I must afflicted be,
To suit some wise design,
Then man my soul with firm resolves,
To bear and not repine!
poem by Robert Burns
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Sonnet 101: O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse. Wilt thou not haply say,
"Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay,
But best is best, if never intermixed"?
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so, for't lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem, long hence, as he shows now.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Sonnet 51: Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed:
From where thou art, why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In wingèd speed no motion shall I know.
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
Therefore desire, of perfect'st love being made,
Shall neigh—no dull flesh—in his fiery race.
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade:
Since from thee going he went wilful-slow,
Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
poem by William Shakespeare
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The Riddle Of The Sphinx
Thou gazing face above the shifting sands!
Oh, turn thy tearless eyes and answer me!
Will honour come to thee and to thy land.
That this should be?
Those swarthy adamantine breasts of stone
Are now matured beneath thine Egypt sun.
Wilt profit by this brood of iron bone
That this be done?
Oh answer me, thou silent gazing face,
All-gifted with the wisdom of the years,
These teeth of Jason, - will they bring thee grace,
Or bring thee tears?
poem by Leon Gellert
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Sonnet: On Calumny
Be thou a saint and yet the world won't spare;
Be thou most chaste and yet, most tongues will talk;
Be thou a crook and yet people don't care;
Be thou a tiger yet, some men will stalk.
Be thou cruel and yet the world will praise;
Be thou too kind and yet the world will taunt;
Be thou rigid and yet the world can't face;
Be thou timid and yet the world will haunt;
Be thou selfish and yet the world loves thee;
Be thou selfless and yet the world thee hates;
Be thou goodly and yet you are not free;
Be thou evil and yet the world thee mates.
Be thou yourself and yet the world finds fault;
Be thou anything, yet the world will vault.
poem by John Celes
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A Love Song
Ah, love, my love is like a cry in the night,
A long, loud cry to the empty sky,
The cry of a man alone in the desert,
With hands uplifted, with parching lips,
Oh, rescue me, rescue me,
Thy form to mine arms,
The dew of thy lips to my mouth,
Dost thou hear me?--my call thro' the night?
Darling, I hear thee and answer,
Thy fountain am I,
All of the love of my soul will I bring to thee,
All of the pains of my being shall wring to thee,
Deep and forever the song of my loving shall sing to thee,
Ever and ever thro' day and thro' night shall I cling to thee.
Hearest thou the answer?
Darling, I come, I come.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Prithe sweet maid say yea for M lady ernestine
Prithee sweet maid; say yes
I bespeak thee with courtesy
Although as yet thou knowest not.
My background and my family.
Thy beauty hath ensorcelled me.
Sometimes strict rules must be forgot
I mean thee no discourtesy.
Thou art the maid I have long sought.
I pray thou wilt consider me.
Well suited to be thy consort.
If thou lookest on me kindly
I will seek out thy sire and plead
his permission to pay thee court.
I am of noble blood like thee
and not unhandsome I believe.
A bachelor completely free.
This future I can offer thee.
Mistress of thine own estate.
Now with bated breath I wait.
Expectantly for thy reply
Should it be yea I will rejoice
Should it be nay I can’t deny.
I have no choice but to accept
Thou dost not look on me kindly
I’m not entitled to expect.
That thou art free to answer me
Here and now immediately
T’would be most ungentlemanly
To press my suit so forcibly.
Consult thee with thy closest kin
to see if they look favourably
on me and on my ancestry.
I will withdraw and leave you to
forgive my lack of courtesy..
The beauty so ensorcelled me
I hardly know that which I do.
I hope that thou forgivest me.
I sinned against thy modesty.
But offer in mine own defence.
Enraptured by thy purity.
My heart overruled my head
And bid me I must speak with thee.
lest some other gain thee instead..
I did not mean to cause offence
Although I know I broke the rules
I bow my head in penitence.
Thou hast the right to bid me go
and nevermore to trouble thee.
By thy shy smile I think I know.
Thou dost not find me to be rude
and will forgive my frowardness.
For which I owe thee gratitude.
I must go now, wait patiently.
Thou wilt be guided by thy kin
Until thou chooseth to answer me.
30/06/2009
Http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Thy Better Self
I AM thy other self, what thou wilt be,
When thou art I, the one seest now;
In finding thy true self thou wilt find me,
The springing blade, where now thou dost but plough.
I am thy neighbor, a new house I've built,
Which thou as yet hast never entered in;
I come to call thee; come in when thou wilt,
The feast is always ready to begin.
Thou should'st love me, as thou dost love thyself,
For I am but another self beside;
To show thee him thou lov'st in better health,
What thou would'st be, when thou to him hast died;
Then visit me, I make thee many a call;
Nor live I near to thee alone, but all.
poem by Jones Very
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To Ailsa Rock
Hearken, thou craggy ocean-pyramid,
Give answer by thy voice—the sea-fowls' screams!
When were thy shoulders mantled in huge streams?
When from the sun was thy broad forehead hid?
How long is't since the mighty Power bid
Thee heave to airy sleep from fathom dreams—
Sleep in the lap of thunder or sunbeams—
Or when grey clouds are thy cold coverlid!
Thou answer'st not; for thou art dead asleep.
Thy life is but two dead eternities,
The last in air, the former in the deep!
First with the whales, last with the eagle-skies!
Drowned wast thou till an earthquake made thee steep,
Another cannot wake thy giant-size!
poem by John Keats
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If Only Shakespeare Would Have
If only Shakespeare would have known
That his vengeful money lender whom
He named Shylock the Jew has grown
[Which I wish was on his tomb] to,
For everyone of Shylock there is
One hundred vengeful moneylenders and
Believe me they are not Jews!
Tis only a silent news!
poem by Ken e Hall
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Thou art but young, thou say’st
Thou art but young, thou say’st,
And love’s delight thou weigh’st not.
Oh! take time while thou may’st,
Lest, when thou would’st, thou may’st not.
If love shall then assail thee,
A double, double anguish will torment thee.
And thou wilt wish, but wishes all will fail thee.
Oh! me that I were young again! And so repent thee.
poem by John Wilbye
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Elegy VII
Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love,
And in that sophistry, Oh, thou dost prove
Too subtle: Foole, thou didst not understand
The mystic language of the eye nor hand:
Nor couldst thou judge the difference of the air
Of sighs, and say, This lies, this sounds despair:
Nor by th' eyes water call a malady
Desperately hot, or changing feverously.
I had not taught thee, then, the Alphabet
Of flowers, how they devisefully being set
And bound up might with speechless secrecy
Deliver errands mutely, and mutually.
Remember since all thy words used to be
To every suitor, Ay, if my friends agree;
Since, household charms, thy husband's name to teach,
Were all the love tricks that thy wit could reach;
And since, an hour's discourse could scarce have made
One answer in thee, and that ill arrayed
In broken proverbs and torn sentences.
Thou art not by so many duties his,
That from the world's Common having severed thee,
Inlaid thee, neither to be seen, nor see,
As mine: who have with amorous delicacies
Refined thee into a blisful Paradise.
Thy graces and good words my creatures be;
I planted knowledge and life's tree in thee,
Which Oh, shall strangers taste? Must I alas
Frame and enamel plate, and drink in glass?
Chaf wax for others' seals? break a colt's force
And leave him then, being made a ready horse?
poem by John Donne
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O my God excuse me
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
Without borrowing and
Without stealing
It is quite impossible
To live with dignity
And what is dignity
I am unable to understand
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
Being human
I be committed to
Public cause
I am not able to do it
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
I am unable to practice
Tolerance and create
Nuisance
I am unable to understand
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
The mistake I have done
And the punishment
I have got
O God excuse me
Excuse me.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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