All Poems
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As I Lay With My Head in Your Lap, Camerado
© Walt Whitman
As I lay with my head in your lap, camerado,
The confession I made I resume - what I said to you in the open air I resume:
The Song of Ninian Melville
© Henry Kendall
Sing the song of noisy Ninny - hang the Muses - spit it out!
(Tuneful Nine ye needn't help me - poet knows his way about!)
Under The Poplars
© Cesar Vallejo
Like priestly imprisoned poets,
the poplars of blood have fallen asleep.
On the hills, the flocks of Bethlehem
chew arias of grass at sunset.
Monody On Henry Headley
© William Lisle Bowles
To every gentle Muse in vain allied,
In youth's full early morning HEADLEY died!
Now And Afterwards
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
TWO hands upon the breast,
And labor's done;
Two pale feet crossed in rest--
The race is won;
Unpublished Poem I
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
JONES plays the deuce with his grammar,
Knocks time and tense into tin-tacks ;
Brown, the big Visigoth, wielding blunt hammer,
Mauls right and left the Queen's syntax.
May Wind
© Sara Teasdale
I said, "I have shut my heart
As one shuts an open door,
That Love may starve therein
And trouble me no more."
Lear
© Thomas Hood
A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown,
Throned upon straw, and mantled with the wind
For pity, my own tears have made me blind
That I might never see my children's frown;
Sonnet XVI
© Caroline Norton
PRINCESS MARIE OF WIRTEMBURG.
WHITE Rose of Bourbon's branch, so early faded!
When thou wert carried to thy silent rest,
And every brow with heavy gloom was shaded,
The Australian Emigrant
© Henry Kendall
How dazzling the sunbeams awoke on the spray,
When Australia first rose in the distance away,
Lines, Written In The Memory Of Elizabeth Smith
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Daughter of heav'n! if here, e'en here,
The wing of tow'ring thought was thine;
If, on this dim and mundane sphere,
Fair truth illum'd thy bright career,
With morning-star divine;
Limerick: There was an Old Man of the Nile,
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man of the Nile,
Who sharpened his nails with a file,
Till he cut out his thumbs,
And said calmly, 'This comes
Of sharpening one's nails with a file!'
Ode To The Cuckoo
© John Logan
Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove!
Thou messenger of Spring!
Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome ring.
The Call Of The Woods
© Edgar Albert Guest
I must get out on the trails once more that wind through shadowy haunts and
cool,
Away from the presence of wall and door, and see myself in a crystal pool;
I must get out with the silent things, where neither laughter nor hate is
heard,
Where malice never the humblest stings and no one is hurt by a spoken word.
The Fruit Of Love's Desire.
© Robert Crawford
The fruit of love's desire is sweet
For any man and maid to eat.
However ripened in time's air,
No other can with it compare.
Written In The Isle Of Thanet
© Robert Bloomfield
The bard, who paints from rural plains,
Must oft himself the void supply
Of damsels pure and artless swains,
Of innocence and industry:
The Mill
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
WINDING and grinding
Round goes the mill:
Winding and grinding
Should never stand still.
Idyl
© Emma Lazarus
The swallows made twitter incessant,
The thrushes were wild with their mirth.
The ways and the woods were made pleasant,
And the flowering nooks of the earth.
Speak, God Of Visions
© Emily Jane Brontë
O, thy bright eyes must answer now,
When Reason, with a scornful brow,
Is mocking at my overthrow!
O, thy sweet tongue must plead for me,
And tell why I have chosen thee!
Before Your Light Quite Fail
© Paul Verlaine
Before your light quite fail,
Already paling star,
(The quail
Sings in the thyme afar!)
