<![CDATA[Dead Poets Daily]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.comhttps://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!z_4A!,w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7b481a67-8597-49b1-b0c2-45ed5f95a735_1024x1024.pngDead Poets Dailyhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.comSubstackWed, 26 Aug 2026 19:12:06 GMT<![CDATA[Ecstasy]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/sarojini-naidu-poem-ecstasyhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/sarojini-naidu-poem-ecstasyWed, 26 Aug 2026 08:49:27 GMTCover mine eyes, O my Love!
Mine eyes that are weary of bliss
As of light that is poignant and strong
O silence my lips with a kiss,
My lips that are weary of song!

Shelter my soul, O my love!
My soul is bent low with the pain
And the burden of love, like the grace
Of a flower that is smitten with rain:
O shelter my soul from thy face!

]]><![CDATA[The Panther]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/rainer-maria-rilke-poem-the-pantherhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/rainer-maria-rilke-poem-the-pantherTue, 25 Aug 2026 08:59:43 GMTHis weary glance, from passing by the bars,
Has grown into a dazed and vacant stare;
It seems to him there are a thousand bars
And out beyond those bars the empty air.

The pad of his strong feet, that ceaseless sound
Of supple tread behind the iron bands,
Is like a dance of strength circling around,
While in the circle, stunned, a great will stands.

But there are times the pupils of his eyes
Dilate, the strong limbs stand alert, apart,
Tense in the stillness through which visions pass
To enter his heart, and cease to be.

]]><![CDATA[Snowfall]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/ada-negri-poem-snowfallhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/ada-negri-poem-snowfallMon, 24 Aug 2026 08:59:38 GMTAcross the fields and roads
So silent and so light,
The snow, in whirling flight,
Descends.

The white drift dances there
Across the spacious sky,
Then settles on the earth nearby,
Weary.

In a thousand motionless shapes
Upon the roofs and chimneys,
On headstones and in gardens,
It sleeps.

All around is peace:
The world, in deep oblivion,
Indifferent, makes no sound
And is still.

Yet in the boundless calm
The heart returns to memory,
And thinks of a love
Long since asleep.

A note to readers: If you can support Dead Poets Daily, please consider a paid subscription from US$2.50 per month. As a paid subscriber, you’ll receive a complimentary copy of the poem-a-day ebook ‘A Year of Japanese Epigrams’, valued at US$19.99.

Subscribe now

]]><![CDATA[The Moon Has Set]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/sappho-poem-the-moon-has-sethttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/sappho-poem-the-moon-has-setFri, 21 Aug 2026 08:59:05 GMTThe moon has left the sky,
Lost is the Pleiads’ light;
It is midnight,
And time slips by,
But on my couch alone I lie.

]]><![CDATA[I Do Not Know What I Seek Eternally]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/rosalia-de-castro-poem-i-do-not-know-what-i-seek-eternallyhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/rosalia-de-castro-poem-i-do-not-know-what-i-seek-eternallyThu, 20 Aug 2026 08:59:40 GMTI do not know what I seek eternally
on earth, in air, and in the heavens;
I do not know what I seek; but it is something
I lost, I know not when, and cannot find,
though I dream it dwells, invisible,
in all that I touch and all that I see.
Happiness, I shall not find you again
on earth, in air, nor in the heavens,
though I know that you exist
and are no idle dream!

]]><![CDATA[Where the Mind is Without Fear]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/rabindranath-tagore-poem-where-the-mind-is-without-fearhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/rabindranath-tagore-poem-where-the-mind-is-without-fearWed, 19 Aug 2026 08:59:19 GMTWhere the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my guide, let my country awake.

]]><![CDATA[The Colour of the Flowers]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/ono-no-komachi-the-colour-of-the-flowershttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/ono-no-komachi-the-colour-of-the-flowersTue, 18 Aug 2026 08:59:06 GMTThe flowers’ colours
have faded with time,
while, in vain,
I have weathered this world—
gazing through the falling rain.

]]><![CDATA[Requiescat]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/oscar-wilde-poem-requiescathttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/oscar-wilde-poem-requiescatMon, 17 Aug 2026 08:59:27 GMTTread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as snow,
She hardly knew
She was a woman, so
Sweetly she grew.

Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone
She is at rest.

Peace, Peace, she cannot hear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life’s buried here,
Heap earth upon it.

]]><![CDATA[In After Days]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/austin-dobson-poem-in-after-dayshttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/austin-dobson-poem-in-after-daysFri, 14 Aug 2026 08:59:02 GMTIn after days when grasses high
O’er-top the stone where I shall lie,
Though ill or well the world adjust
My slender claim to honoured dust,
I shall not question nor reply.

I shall not see the morning sky;
I shall not hear the night-wind sigh;
I shall be mute, as all men must,
In after days.

But yet, now living, fain were I
That some one then should testify,
Saying—“He held his pen in trust
To Art, not serving shame or lust.”
Will none?—Then let my memory die
In after days!

A note to readers: If you can support Dead Poets Daily, please consider a paid subscription—and receive a complimentary copy of the Flickerwell Classics ebook ‘A Year of Japanese Epigrams’ valued at US$19.99:

Subscribe now

]]><![CDATA[Blue Squills]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/sara-teasdale-poem-blue-squillshttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/sara-teasdale-poem-blue-squillsThu, 13 Aug 2026 09:00:27 GMTHow many million Aprils came
Before I ever knew
How white a cherry bough could be,
A bed of squills, how blue!

And many a dancing April
When life is done with me,
Will lift the blue flame of the flower
And the white flame of the tree.

Oh burn me with your beauty, then,
Oh hurt me, tree and flower,
Lest in the end death try to take
Even this glistening hour.

O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees,
O sunlit white and blue,
Wound me, that I, through endless sleep,
May bear the scar of you.

]]><![CDATA[Animal Tranquillity and Decay]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/william-wordsworth-poem-animal-tranquillity-and-decayhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/william-wordsworth-poem-animal-tranquillity-and-decayWed, 12 Aug 2026 08:59:39 GMTThe little hedgerow birds,
That peck along the road, regard him not.
He travels on, and in his face, his step,
His gait, is one expression; every limb,
His look and bending figure, all bespeak
A man who does not move with pain, but moves
With thought. He is insensibly subdued
To settled quiet: he is one by whom
All effort seems forgotten; one to whom
Long patience hath such mild composure given,
That patience now doth seem a thing of which
He hath no need. He is by nature led
To peace so perfect, that the young behold
With envy, what the Old Man hardly feels.

]]><![CDATA[Dreams]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/langston-hughes-poem-dreamshttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/langston-hughes-poem-dreamsTue, 11 Aug 2026 08:59:25 GMTHold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

]]><![CDATA[The Deserts of Sleep]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/carl-john-bostelmann-poem-the-deserts-of-sleephttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/carl-john-bostelmann-poem-the-deserts-of-sleepMon, 10 Aug 2026 09:00:21 GMTI went into the deserts of dim sleep—
That world which, like an unknown wilderness,
Bounds this with its recesses wide and deep—
And there I lay awhile in loneliness
To count the eons of infinity
In their significant but empty sums;
As shepherds, delving an uncovered sky,
Devise attainment of millenniums.

And as I lay, around me gathered slow
Successions and insistences of sweet
And unremitting silence. Then below
My bed of sand, upon its cushioned feet,
The problem of the present day came creeping,
A chanticleer to terminate my sleeping.

]]><![CDATA[Life Be Kind!]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/charles-oluf-olsen-poem-life-be-kindhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/charles-oluf-olsen-poem-life-be-kindFri, 07 Aug 2026 08:59:30 GMTLife, be kind and let me run
Another race against the sun—

Run rash-hearted once again
Through the thunder and the rain—

To the beckoning rainbow’s end,
Where the trails of longing blend.

Life, be kind and let me pass!
See the shadows on the grass!

Life, release me for the sake
Of the promise that I make:

I will die three deaths for you—
One to render honest due,
One for pardon, one for rue.

]]><![CDATA[White Leopard]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/henriette-de-saussure-blanding-poem-white-leopardhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/henriette-de-saussure-blanding-poem-white-leopardThu, 06 Aug 2026 08:59:14 GMTWalk stealthily, O fearful soul,
Avert the golden eyes that hold
The color of consuming flesh.

There is no white of early snow,
No pallor of residual bone,
No white rose where the late buds push

Past the frail green, so white as this
Bright presence in a fiery mist,
Still as the whiteness of new frost.

Frost fading where the gold light slants,
White rose my golden garden wants,
Turn frost to flower, celestial ghost.

A note to readers: If you can support Dead Poets Daily, please consider a paid subscription from US$2.50 per month—and receive a complimentary copy of the Flickerwell Classics ebook ‘A Year of Japanese Epigrams’, valued at US$19.99:

Subscribe now

]]><![CDATA[Bankrupt]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/josephine-johnson-poem-bankrupthttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/josephine-johnson-poem-bankruptWed, 05 Aug 2026 08:59:22 GMTWhen I was wounded unto death
I hid my wound from every eye;
I kept my own eyes fiercely dry,
And no one knew I choked for breath.

But that one hour drained away
Life’s reservoirs. When it was done
My every store of strength was gone—
A touch can make me weep today.

]]><![CDATA[To a Bed of Tulips]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/robert-herrick-poem-to-a-bed-of-tulipshttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/robert-herrick-poem-to-a-bed-of-tulipsTue, 04 Aug 2026 08:59:24 GMTBright tulips, we do know
You had your coming hither,
And fading-time does show
That ye must quickly wither.

Your sisterhoods may stay,
And smile here for your hour;
But die ye must away,
Even as the meanest flower.

Come, virgins, then and see
Your frailties, and bemoan ye;
For, lost like these, ’twill be
As time had never known ye.

]]><![CDATA[Zuni]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/edward-sapir-poem-zunihttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/edward-sapir-poem-zuniMon, 03 Aug 2026 08:59:09 GMTI send you this.
Through the monotony
Of mumbling melody, the established fall
And rise of the slow dreaming ritual,
Through the dry glitter of the desert sea
And sharpness of the mesa, keep the flowing
Of your spirit, in many branching ways!
Be running mirrors to the colored maze,
Not pool enchanted nor a water slowing.

Hear on the wing, see in a flash, retreat!—
Beauty is brightest when the eye is fleet.
The priests are singing softly on the sand,
And the four colored points and zenith stand;
The desert crawls and leaps, the eagle flies.
Put wax into your ears and close your eyes.

]]><![CDATA[Greater than the Sun]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/ernest-walsh-poem-greater-than-the-sunhttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/ernest-walsh-poem-greater-than-the-sunFri, 31 Jul 2026 08:59:08 GMTIt is enough
That I have lain in darkness
Breathing odors of the rose,
Seeing more clearly than with eyes
Its color,
Touching more really than with hands
Its leaves and stem;
While in my brain
Words, gorgeous, exquisite, noble and proud,
Attached my drifting spirit
With the feel of wings.

Let the dawn come!—
I have been greater than the sun.

]]><![CDATA[Reflections]]>https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/babette-deutsch-poem-reflectionshttps://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/babette-deutsch-poem-reflectionsThu, 30 Jul 2026 08:59:07 GMTYour eyes were strange with sorrow: were there tears
That touched their color to such troubled light?
Those mirrors wherein mine had shone so bright
Refused the image, looking on the years,
Like naked runners running upon spears,
That showed so impotently few tonight—
The pageant of a passion men requite
With death, and freedom whose chief wage is fears.

I would have outstared sorrow in your eyes,
But looking on them, mine reflected yours
As the most lucid pool shows stormy skies,
Cloud facing cloud, when deepest calm endures.
And though my lips had drunk your bitter wine,
You would have tasted bitterer, touching mine.

]]>