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Holy Sonnet XV: Wilt Thou Love God, As He Thee? Then Digest

Wilt thou love God, as he thee? Then digest,
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In heaven, doth make his Temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting, (for he ne'er be gone)
Hath deigned to choose thee by adoption,
Co-heir t' his glory, and Sabbath' endless rest.
And as a robbed man, which by search doth find
His stol'n stuff sold, must lose or buy 't again:
The Son of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom he'd made, and Satan stol'n, to unbind.
'Twas much that man was made like God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.

poem by John Donne
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Sonnet XVII: Love Steals Unheeded

Love steals unheeded o'er the tranquil mind,
As Summer breezes fan the sleeping main,
Slow through each fibre creeps the subtle pain,
'Till closely round the yielding bosom twin'd.
Vain is the hope the magic to unbind,
The potent mischief riots in the brain,
Grasps ev'ry thought, and burns in ev'ry vein,
'Till in the heart the Tyrant lives enshrin'd.
Oh! Victor strong! bending the vanquish'd frame;
Sweet is the thraldom that thou bid'st us prove!
And sacred is the tear thy victims claim,
For blest are those whom sighs of sorrow move!
Then nymphs beware how ye profane my name,
Nor blame my weakness, till like me ye love!

poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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A complaint

Tell me thou all pervading mind,
When I this life forsake,
Must ev'ry tender tie unbind,
Each sweet connection break?

How shall I leave thee, oh! my love,
And blooming progeny?
If I without thee mount above,
'Twill be no heav'n to me.

Ah! when beneath the arching vault
My lifeless form's remov'd,
Let not oblivion sink the thought,
How much, how long I lov'd.

Come oft my grassy tomb to see,
And drop thy sorrows there;
No balmy dews of heav'n shall be
Refreshing as thy tear.

[...] Read more

poem by Ann Eliza Bleecker from The Posthumous Works of Ann Eliza Bleecker
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sexual Deviance In the House Of Abstinence

Lamenting her malpractice,
Deep within hollow shadows which leave her weeping,
A sensational desire,
Thirsting for brass staves and iron chains to unbind
Searching to find,
A hunger to see,
A blasphemous path to her deviant wishes
Nurturing beastial fetishes,
Unevovled lusts which her own malice has dared to invoke,
So proudly on knees, bleeding, bruising, begging
For deliverance from this repression, this burdening resentment...
To revel in the fruits of her hungering orgasms,
Free and proud,
Unbound without the hint of restriant,
Screaming the name of Abomination
Chanting the spell of infernal charm and pleasure....

poem by Jack Cropes
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Holy Sonnet XV: Wilt Thou Love God

Wilt thou love God, as he thee? then digest,
My Soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by Angels waited on
In heaven, doth make his Temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting, (for he ne'r begone)
Hath deigned to choose thee by adoption,
Co heir to his glory, and Sabbaths endless rest;
And as a robbed man, which by search doth find
His stol'n stuff sold, must lose or buy it again;
The Son of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom he had made, and Satan stolne, to unbind.
'Twas much, that man was made like God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.

poem by John Donne
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Sonnet XI: O! Reason!

O! Reason! vaunted Sovreign of the mind!
Thou pompous vision with a sounding name!
Can'st thou, the soul's rebellious passions tame!
Can'st thou in spells the vagrant fancy bind?
Ah, no! capricious as the wav'ring wind,
Are sighs of Love that dim thy boasted flame,
While Folly's torch consumes the wreath of fame,
And Pleasure's hands the sheaves of truth unbind.
Press'd by the storms of Fate, hope shrinks and dies;
Frenzy darts forth in mightiest ills array'd;
Around thy throne destructive tumults rise,
And hell-fraught jealousies, thy rights invade!
Then, what art thou? O! Idol of the wise!
A visionary theme!--a gorgeous shade!

poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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Holy Sonnet 15

Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest,
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In heaven, doth make His temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting—for he ne'er begun—
Hath deign'd to choose thee by adoption,
Co-heir to His glory, and Sabbath' endless rest.
And as a robb'd man, which by search doth find
His stolen stuff sold, must lose or buy it again,
The Sun of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom He had made, and Satan stole, to unbind.
'Twas much, that man was made like God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.

poem by John Donne from Holy Sonnets
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Season Of Spring

THE SEASON OF SPRING

the season of spring
weather seems to sing
lovely lovely days
are coming our ways

the season of spring
blooming blossoming
of nature of all kind
let roots unbind

the season of spring
birds unfold their wings
diving high into sky
wish one could fly

the season of spring
careful hearts love sting
reaching out towards others

[...] Read more

poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Lines Written in a Blank Leaf of the ‘Prometheus Unbound’

Write it in gold - a Spirit of the sun,
An Intellect ablaze with heavenly thoughts,
A soul with all the dews of pathos shining,
Odorous with love, and sweet to silent woe
With the dark glories of concentrate song,
Was sphered in mortal earth. Angelic sounds
Alive with panting thoughts sunned the dim world.
The bright creations of an human heart
Wrought magic in the bosoms of mankind.
A flooding summer burst on Poetry;
Of which the crowning sun, the night of beauty,
The dancing showers, the birds, whose anthems wild
Note after note unbind the enchanted leaves
Of breaking buds, eve, and the flow of dawn,
Were centred and condensed in his one name
As in a providence - and that was SHELLEY.

Oxford 1822

poem by Thomas Lovell Beddoes
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Pocahantas

Upon the barren sand,
The lonely captive stood:
Around him came, with bow and brand,
The red men of the wood.
Like one of old, his doom he hears,
Rock-bound on Ocean's brim;
The Chieftain's daughter knelt in tears,
And breathed a prayer for him.
Above his head, in air,
The savage war-club swung:
The frantic maid, in wild despair,
Her arms around him flung;
Then shook the warriors off the shade,
Like leaves on aspen limb,
Subdued by that heroic maid,
Who breathed a prayer for him!
'Unbind him!' gasp'd the Chief;
'It is your King's decree.'
He kiss'd away the tears of grief,
And set the captive free!

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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