All Poems
/ page 1014 of 3210 /
Prayer Answered By Crosses
© John Newton
I ask'd the Lord, that I might grow
In faith, and love, and ev'ry grace,
Might more of his salvation know,
And seek more earnestly his face.
Chorus from Mariam
© Elizabeth Carew
TIS not enough for one that is a wife
To keep her spotless from an act of ill;
But from suspicion she should free her life,
And bare herself of power as well as will,
Tis not so glorious for her to be free,
As by her proper self restraind to be.
Childhood Alone Is Glad
© Charles Heavysege
Childhood alone is glad. With it time flees
In constant mimes and bright festivities.
Fauconshawe
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
To fetch clear water out of the spring
The little maid Margaret ran;
From the stream to the castle's western wing
It was but a bowshot span;
On the sedgy brink where the osiers cling
Lay a dead man, pallid and wan.
Spring Song
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
A BLUE-BELL springs upon the ledge,
A lark sits singing in the hedge;
The Danish Boy
© William Wordsworth
I
BETWEEN two sister moorland rills
There is a spot that seems to lie
Sacred to flowerets of the hills,
The Spirit Of The Forest Spring
© Madison Julius Cawein
Over the rocks she trails her locks,
Her mossy locks that drip, drip, drip:
A Ballad Of The Two Knights
© Sara Teasdale
Two knights rode forth at early dawn
A-seeking maids to wed,
Said one, "My lady must be fair,
With gold hair on her head."
Inscriptions: III: Whoe'er Thou Art Whose Pat In Summer Lies
© Mark Akenside
Whoe'er thou art whose path in summer lies
Through yonder village, turn thee where the grove
Donna Mi Prega
© Ezra Pound
Safe may'st thou go my canzon whither thee pleaseth
Thou art so fair attired that every man and each
Shall praise thy speech
So we have sense or glow with reason's fire,
To stand with other
hast thou no desire.
Contrition
© George MacDonald
Out of the gulf into the glory,
Father, my soul cries out to be lifted.
Dark is the woof of my dismal story,
Thorough thy sun-warp stormily drifted!-
Out of the gulf into the glory,
Lift me, and save my story.
The Old Love
© Katharine Tynan
Out of my door I step into
The country, all her scent and dew,
Nor travel there by a hard road,
Dusty and far from my abode.
Winter Song
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
OH, who would be sad tho' the sky be a-graying,
And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare;
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Fourth
© William Lisle Bowles
O'er my poor ANNA'S lowly grave
No dirge shall sound, no knell shall ring;
But angels, as the high pines wave,
Their half-heard "Miserere" sing.
At Last
© John Greenleaf Whittier
When on my day of life the night is falling,
And, in the winds from unsunned spaces blown,
I hear far voices out of darkness calling
My feet to paths unknown,
