All Poems

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The Burgomeister's Well

© Isabella Valancy Crawford

A peaceful spot, a little street,

So still between the double roar

A Mother's Loss.

© Robert Crawford

When I did name her little lost one, she
Brushed from her eyes the precious drops of love,
As if her memory with his sweet name shaken
Trembled, and shed its dew.

No wiser we than men of heretofore
To find thy sacred fountains guarded fast;
Enough, thy flood makes green our human shore,
As Nilus Egypt, rolling down his vast
His fertile flood, that murmurs evermore
Of gods dethroned, and empires in the past.

The World

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

THE World is older than our earliest dates;
All thoughts, all feelings, all desires, all fates,
Were known and tested, long ere Adam's crime
Set the keen sword of flame at Eden-gates!

The Thraldom

© Abraham Cowley

I came, I saw, and was undone;
Lightning did through my bones and marrow run;
A pointed pain pierc'd deep my heart;
A swift cold trembling seiz'd on every part;
My head turn'd round, nor could it bear
The poison that was enter'd there.

A Song For The Season

© Katharine Tynan

THE Kings to the Stable

They brought sweet spice,

Bill the Bullock-Driver

© Henry Kendall

The singers that sweeten all time with their song
Pure voices that make us forget
Humanitys drama of marvellous wrong
To Bill are as mysteries yet.

Thanks

© Stephen Vincent Benet

For these my thanks, not that I eat or sleep,

Sweat or survive, but that at seventeen

Sonnet XV. To The Lord General Fairfax

© John Milton

Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings,
And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise,
And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze.
And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings,

The Ballad of Bouillabaisse

© William Makepeace Thackeray

A street there is in Paris famous,

For which no rhyme our language yields,

Memnon

© Leslie Holdsworth Allen

When I was a burst of thunder

Born on the Nubian cliffs,

Fortunate Moments

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Hast thou not known them, too, these moments bright,
Rare moments, such as came to me but now,
On this clear, breezy evening, when the light
Flows through the orchard's tossing leaf and bough,
As though beyond their lifted screen the breeze
Would open magic visions of the Hesperides?

To Thee the tuneful Anthem soars

© Mather Byles

"To Thee the tuneful Anthem soars,
To Thee, our Father's God, and ours;
This Wilderness we chose our Seat:
To Rights secur'd by Equal Laws
From Persecution's Iron Claws,
We here have sought our calm Retreat.

Moonlight

HE feigned a fine indifference
To be so prodigal of light,
Knowing his piteous twisted things
Would lose the crooked marks of spite
When only moonbeams fit the dusk
And made his wicked world seem right.