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About this poet

The authorship of the following poems is unknown.

The Unquiet Grave

I

'The wind doth blow today, my love,  
  And a few small drops of rain;  
I never had but one true-love;  
  In cold grave she was lain.  
  
II

'I'll do as much for my true-love 
  As any young man may;  
I'll sit and mourn all at her grave  
  For a twelvemonth and a day.'  
  
III

The twelvemonth and a day being up,  
  The dead began to speak:
'Oh who sits weeping on my grave,  
  And will not let me sleep?'—  
  
IV

''Tis I, my love, sits on your grave,  
  And will not let you sleep;  
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
  And that is all I seek.'—  
  
V

'You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;  
  But my breath smells earthy strong;  
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,  
  Your time will not be long.
  
VI

''Tis down in yonder garden green,  
  Love, where we used to walk,  
The finest flower that ere was seen  
  Is wither'd to a stalk.  
  
VII

'The stalk is wither'd dry, my love,
  So will our hearts decay;  
So make yourself content, my love,  
  Till God calls you away.'

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Anonymous

The authorship of this poem is unknown.

by this poet

poem
Earth took of earth earth with ill;
Earth other earth gave earth with a will.
Earth laid earth in the earth stock-still:
Then earth in earth had of earth its fill.



Erthe Toc of Erthe

Erthe toc of erthe erthe wyth woh,
erthe other erthe to the earthe droh,
erthe leyde erthe in erthene throh,
2
poem
O Insewn God—born from Zeus' thigh—
   some folk say in Drakanon,
some in windy Ikaros,
   others say in Naxos,
or by the deep-eddying river Alpheos,
pregnant Semele bore you to thunder-loving Zeus.
Others say you were born in Thebes, Lord,
but all of them lie:
   the father of men and gods gave birth to you
far
poem
Adam lay ibounden,
     Bounden in a bond;
Four thousand winter
     Thoght he not too long;
And all was for an appil,
     An appil that he tok,
As clerkes finden
     Wreten in here book.
Ne hadde the appil take ben,
     The appil taken ben,
Ne hadde never our lady
     A ben hevene quene.
Blessed be the time