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"The buried voice bespake Antigone. 'O sister! couldst thou know, as thou wilt know, The bliss above, the reverence below, Enkindled by thy sacrifice for me; Thou wouldst at once with holy ecstasy Give thy warm limbs into the yearning earth. Sleep, Sister! for Elysium's dawning birth, - And faith will fill thee with what is to be! Sleep, for the Gods are watching over thee! Thy dream will steer thee to perform their will, As silently their influence they instil. O Sister! in the sweetness of thy prime, Thy hand has plucked the bitter flower of death; But this will dower thee with Elysian breath, That fade into a never-fading clime. Dear to the Gods are those that do like thee A solemn duty! for the tyranny Of kings is feeble to the soul that dares Defy them to fulfil its sacred cares: And weak against a mighty will are men. O, Torch between two brothers! in whose gleam Our slaughtered House doth shine as one again, Tho' severed by the sword; now may thy dream Kindle desire in thee for us, and thou, Forgetting not thy lover and his vow, Leaving no human memory forgot, Shalt cross, not unattended, the dark stream Which runs by thee in sleep and ripples not. The large stars glitter thro' the anxious night, ..."

"In life one is always balancing like we juggle our mothers against our fathers or one teacher against another (only to balance our grade average) ..."

"O solemn Night,   you were my first inheritance,   laid upon my shoulders  before I knew the weight of living.  In your cold chambers  I learned the language of silence,   the discipline of disappearing,   the art of surviving what could not be spoken.  You shaped the boy  ..."

"The east wind blows in the street to-day; The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey. 'Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire, Of cold despair and of hot desire, Which chills the flesh to aches and pains, And sends a fever through all the veins. From end to end, with aimless feet, All day long have I paced the street. My limbs are weary, but in my breast Stirs the goad of a mad unrest. I would give anything to stay The little wheel that turns in my brain; The little wheel that turns all day, That turns all night with might and main. What is the thing I fear, and why? Nay, but the world is all awry-- The wind's in the east, the sun's in the sky. The gas-lamps gleam in a golden line; The ruby lights of the hansoms shine, Glance, and flicker like fire-flies bright; The wind has fallen with the night, And once again the town seems fair Thwart the mist that hangs i' the air. And o'er, at last, my spirit steals A weary peace ; peace that conceals Within its inner depths the grain Of hopes that yet shall flower again. ..."

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Best poems by famous poets all around the world on Poem Hunter. Read poem and quotes from most popular poets.