All Poems
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In The Mist
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
MORE fearful grows the hillside way,
The gloom no softening breeze hath kissed!
I glance far upward to the day,
But scarce can catch one faltering ray
From out the mist!
Dorothy D.
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I'm sick of "musn'ts," said Dorothy D.
Sick of musn'ts, as I can be.
From early dawn till the close of day
I hear a musn't, and never a may.
The Wonder Of It
© Harriet Monroe
How wild, how witch-like weird that life should be!
That the insensate rock dared dream of me,
And take to bursting out and burgeoning
Oh, long agoyo ho!
And wearing green! How stark and strange a thing
That life should be!
Autumn Even-Song
© George Meredith
The long cloud edged with streaming grey
Soars from the West;
The red leaf mounts with it away,
Showing the nest
A blot among the branches bare:
There is a cry of outcasts in the air.
An Hymne In Honour Of Love
© Edmund Spenser
Why then do I this honor unto thee,
Thus to ennoble thy victorious name,
Sith thou doest shew no favour unto mee,
Ne once move ruth in that rebellious dame,
The Wombat
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
OH how the family affections combat
Within this heart, and each hour flings a bomb at
My burning soul! Neither from owl nor from bat
Can peace be gained until I clasp my wombat.
The Seven Year Old Poet
© Arthur Rimbaud
And so the Mother, shutting up the duty book,
Went, proud and satisfied.
Sonnet, To The Same (Genevra)
© George Gordon Byron
Thy cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe,
And yet so lovely, that if Mirth could flush
Its rose of whiteness with the brightest blush,
My heart would wish away that ruder glow:
The Canary In His Cage
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SING away, ay, sing away,
Merry little bird,
Always gayest of the gay,
Though a woodland roundelay
Song. "While many a fond"
© Amelia Opie
WHILE many a fond and blooming maid
Attempts thy heart to gain;
And, by thy fatal smile betrayed,
Thinks not she strives in vain:
The Legend of La Brea
© Charles Kingsley
Down beside the loathly Pitch Lake,
In the stately Morichal,
Sat an ancient Spanish Indian,
Peering through the columns tall.
Est-ce que les oiseaux se cachent pour mourir?
© François Coppée
Est-ce que les oiseaux se cachent pour mourir?
Le soir, au coin du feu, j'ai pensé bien des fois
À la mort d'un oiseau, quelque part, dans les bois.
Pendant les tristes jours de l'hiver monotone,
Rose Dolores
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE moan of Rose Dolores, she made her plaint to me,
"My hair is lifted by the wind that sweeps in from the sea;
I taste its salt upon my lips--O jailer, set me free!"
A Cavalier Song
© Robert Browning
(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
De Scaevola.
© Richard Lovelace
Lictorem pro rege necans nunc mutius ultro
Sacrifico propriam concremat igne manum:
Miratur Porsenna virum, paenamque relaxans
Maxima cum obscessis faedera a victor init,
Plus flammis patriae confert quam fortibus armis,
Una domans bellum funere dextra sua.
School
© Henry Van Dyke
I put my heart to school
In the world where men grow wise:
"Go out," I said, "and learn the rule;
'Come back when you win a prize.'"
Footlight Motifs
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Time was, when first that voice I heard,
Despite my close and tense endeavour,
When many an important word
Was lost and gone forever;
Though, unlike others at the play,
I never whispered: "wha'd'd she say?"
Time To Rise
© Robert Louis Stevenson
A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon my window sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
"Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head!"
Fit The Third - The Baker's Tale
© Lewis Carroll
There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream,
Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe
In an antediluvian tone.
