All Poems
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A Hope Carol
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
A night was near, a day was near,
Between a day and night
Twenty-Second Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
What liberty so glad and gay,
As where the mountain boy,
Reckless of regions far away,
A prisoner lives in joy?
Shooter's Hill
© Robert Bloomfield
Health! I seek thee;-dost thou love
The mountain top or quiet vale,
A Worm Will Turn
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I love a man who'll smile and joke
When with misfortune crowned;
Who'll pun beneath a pauper's yoke,
And as he breaks his daily toke,
Conundrums gay propound.
The Reprieve
© Caroline Norton
"Oh! hear me, thou, who in the sunshine's glare
So calmly waitest till the warning bell
Shall of the closing hour of his despair
In gloomy notes of muffled triumph tell.
Love And Grief
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Out of my heart, one treach'rous winter's day,
I locked young Love and threw the key away.
The Empty Hills
© Yvor Winters
The grandeur of deep afternoons,
The pomp of haze on marble hills,
Where every white-walled villa swoons
Through violence that heat fulfills,
Sonnet To Love
© Helen Maria Williams
AH , Love! ere yet I knew thy fatal power,
Bright glow'd the colour of my youthful days,
Phi Beta Kappa Poem
© Bliss William Carman
Harvard, 1914
SIR, friends, and scholars, we are here to serve
A high occasion. Our New England wears
All her unrivalled beauty as of old;
From The Cuckoo And The Nightingale
© William Wordsworth
The God of Love-"ah, benedicite!"
How mighty and how great a Lord is he!
For he of low hearts can make high, of high
He can make low, and unto death bring nigh;
And hard-hearts he can make them kind and free.
Let Us Forget
© James Whitcomb Riley
Let us forget. What matters it that we
Once reigned o'er happy realms of long-ago,
Joseph Warren, M. D.
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
TRAINED in the holy art whose lifted shield
Wards off the darts a never-slumbering foe,
Adam
© John Newton
On man, in his own image made,
How much did GOD bestow?
The whole creation homage paid,
And owned him LORD, below!
The barren music of a word or phrase,
© Christopher Morley
THE barren music of a word or phrase,
The futile arts of syllable and stress,
He sought. The poetry of common days
He did not guess.
Who
© Sylvia Plath
The month of flowering's finished. The fruit's in,
Eaten or rotten. I am all mouth.
October's the month for storage.
Memorabilia
© Edgar Lee Masters
Old pioneers, how fare your souls to-day?
They seem to be
Imminent about this pastoral way,
This sunny lea,
Woone Rule
© William Barnes
An' while I zot, wi' thoughtvul mind,
Up where the lwonesome Coombs do wind,
"No Man Knoweth his Sepulchre"
© William Cullen Bryant
When he, who, from the scourge of wrong,
Aroused the Hebrew tribes to fly,
Saw the fair region, promised long,
And bowed him on the hills to die;
