To respond to the below post: I have quite a few favorite poets.
I love, love W.H. Auden. “Lay your sleeping head, my love” is quite possibly the perfect poem.
Also love Elizabeth Browning (“Sonnets from the Portuguese”, which has “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” in it), and Alfred, Lord Tennyson–who doesn’t love “The Lady of Shalott”? (And Anne Shirley’s recitation of it?) He was also Queen Victoria’s poet laureate, and dedicated his “Idylls of the King” to her husband, Prince Albert.
Am a big fan of Dante, as I am re-reading the Commedia right now. It grows on you.
And I can’t forget Oscar Wilde–his “Ballad of Reading Gaol” slays me every time. Many of his poems have a Catholic sensibility that I enjoy.
Finally, Shakespeare’s Sonnets (Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments!) and Good Ol’ Chaucer. Just think how long The canterbury Tales would’ve been if he’d finished it!
Wait–I said finally. I lied. There’s more!
Christina Rossetti–Goblin Market! In the Bleak Midwinter!
John Donne--A Valediction Forbidding Mourning
JOHN MILTON! Paradise Lost! Oh, man, that slays me, especially the last lines:
Some natural tears they dropp’d, but dried them soon/
the world was all before them where to choose their place of rest and providence their guide/
they, hand in hand, with wander steps and slow/
through Eden took their solitary way.
And the Russian, Pushkin, for the fantastic Eugene Onegin, which Tchaikovsky turned into a gorgeous opera.