One single line of poetry....

"The kiss in Colin's eyes" from The Look, by Sara Teasdale:

Stephen kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest,
Robin’s lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin’s eyes
Haunts me night and day

Oh hang fire, one line rather than one sentence?
In that case:

Years wrinkle the skin but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.

From the same.

You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt,
as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear,
as young as your hope, as old as your despair.
How to grow old by Samuel Ullman

Another line I like:
Fools! For I also had my hour;: One far fierce hour and sweet (Chesterton)

Pleased to see some other admirers of Louis MacNeice; he's one of my favourite poets.

Many of my favourites have already been mentioned: Donne, Heaney and Hopkins. The line that has been haunting me recently, however, is from Hamlet:

When sorrows come, they come not single spies
But in battalions.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love you to the depth, breadth and height
My soul can reach
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And

Right, like a well-done sum.

A clean slate, with your own face on.
Plath

When I am old I shall wear purple.. (Snip)
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells,
And run my stick along the public railings,
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

-
I grow old I grow old,
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

I've always been melancholic about old age!

I love 'High Flight' as mentioned earlier.

Another favourite is:

The Death Bed
BY SIEGFRIED SASSOON
He drowsed and was aware of silence heaped
Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls;
Aqueous like floating rays of amber light,
Soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep.
Silence and safety; and his mortal shore
Lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death.

follow link for rest of poem www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/248212

niiiiiiiice chilly egg. Have you seen Arcadia? One of the best moments.

I am not yet born, console me
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me
With strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me

"Prayer before birth" - Louis MacNeice

Chills me to the bone

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Lord Byron She walks in beauty

This poem is so lovely

Song of Solomon. Love the King James bible. This is lush.

"I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.

2 As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

4 He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

5 Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.

6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.

7 I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

8 The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.

9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.

10 My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

11 For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

12 The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;

13 The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

14 O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.

16 My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.

17 Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

King James Version (KJV)
by Public Domain

Two favourites from childhood that are upbeat:

Lock yourself in a cupboard, dear
Run away to sea.
Do whatever you can, my flower
But don't ask me!
Please Mrs butler, Allan ahlberg

When I was 9/10 yrs old we had a supply teacher who would appear every so often and every time we would beg her to read the poem Chocolate Cake by Michael Rosen, I don't suppose we even realised it was a poem. I still think of it now everything I cut a slice of cake.

...and I'm squealing and I'm smacking my lips and I'm stuffing myself with it...
...oh no they're bound to notice aren't they a whole chocolate cake doesn't just disappear....

I agree with other posters, however, it wasn't until I came across war poetry that my interest was properly sparked. The imagery still gets to me when I read them now.

"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
They called me the hyacinth girl."
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Yours arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

Oed' und leer das Meer."

Wah - love this so much. Carry it around in my head.

I love Sonnet 116

Sensual stuff sticks with me - not necessarily the greatest or my favourite poems but I find these rolling around my mouth a lot.

As bread and beanflowers/The touch of their lips/And their white teeth sweeter than cucumbers. (Laurie Lee)

Dopo la pioggia, la terra/e una frutta appena sbucciato [After the rain, the earth/is a freshly-peeled fruit] (Giorgio Caproni). I wish I'd ever learned any other lines of poetry in other languages.

Thanks Gaspode. You're right. I also have him to thank for my secret love of Pam Ayres

When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

"Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, if mankind perished utterly;"

There will come soft rains by Sara Teasdale.

Not strictly a poem but I had the sheer pleasure of playing Viola and uttering these wonderful lines-

Make me a willow cabin at your gate
And call upon my soul within the house
Write loyal cantons of comtemned love
And sing them loud, e'en in the dead of night
Hallow your name to the reverberate hills
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out "Olivia". O you shall not rest
Between the elements of air and earth
But you should pity me

"Pennies emanate from her"

CAT'S MEAT
O, all you cats in all the street; Look out, it is the hour of meat :

The little barrow is crawling along, And the meat-boy growling his fleshy song.

Hurry, Ginger! Hurry, White! Don't delay to court or fight.

Wandering Tabby, vagrant Black, Yamble from adventure back !

Slip across the shining street, Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat !

Lift your tail and dip your feet; Find your penny " Meat! Meat !

Where's your mistress? Learn to purr: Pennies emanate from her.

Be to her, for she is Fate, Perfectly affectionate.

(You, domestic Pinkie-Nose, Keep inside and warm your toes.)

Flurry, flurry in the street " Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat !

Harold Monro

Me too, Director! I suspect I'm luckier than you. for you if I'm right. My dad's still around and spouting stuff like this at the drop of a hat. Long may that continue.

No star is ever lost we once have seen, We may always be what we might have been.

Adelaide Anne Procter.

Tread softly for you tread on my dreams

WB Yeats

Aww Gaspode. Spring is sprung reminds me so much of my Dad. Sniff.