Favourite Poems

I enjoy poetry, particularly classical poetry, so I decided to devise a list of my favourite poems. Deciding what should be at the top spot was very easy, as I know it off by heart and regard it as my favourite poem. I shall accompany each one with a stanza from it, or if it's a short poem, the whole piece.

1. Ulalume by Edgar Allan Poe.

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom,
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb,
By the door of a legended tomb:
And I said "What is written sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied "Ulalume - Ulalume,
'T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

2. They Flee From Me That Sometime Did Me Seek by Sir Thomas Wyatt.

Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she caught me in her arms long and small;
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, "Dear heart, how like you this?"

3. Lines by Emily Brontë.

But long or short though life may be,
'Tis nothing to eternity
We part below to meet on high,
Where blissful ages never die.

4. Fire and Ice by Robert Frost.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

5. How Do I Love Thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

6. The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe.

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

7. And Wilt Thou Leave Me Thus? by Sir Thomas Wyatt.

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!

8. Lullaby by W.H. Auden.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's sensual ecstasy.

9. She Walks In Beauty by Lord Byron.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impared the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lights o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

10. Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride
In her sepulchre there by the sea -
In her tomb by the side of the sea.