All Poems
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June Night
© Sara Teasdale
OH Earth, you are too dear to-night,
How can I sleep while all around
Floats rainy fragrance and the far
Deep voice of the ocean that talks to the ground?
Wasteland Of Solitude
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
In the wasteland of solitude, my love, quiver
shadows of your voice, illusions of your lips.
In the wasteland of solitude, from the dusts of parting
Sprout jasmines and roses of your presence
Marthy Ellen
© James Whitcomb Riley
They's nothin' in the name to strike
A feller more'n common like!
The Four Angels
© Rudyard Kipling
As Adam lay a-dreaming beneath the Apple Tree
The Angel of the Earth came down, and offered Earth in fee;
Verses Found in Bothwell's Pocket-book
© Sir Walter Scott
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright
As in that well-remember'd night
Martial, Lib. I, Epig. I.
© George Gordon Byron
'Hic est, quem legis, ille, quern requiris, Tota notus in orbe Martialis,' &c.
He unto whom thou art so partial,
Oh, reader is the well-known Martial,
Remembrance
© Friedrich Hölderlin
The northeast blows,
my favorite among winds,
since it promises fiery spirit
and a good voyage to mariners.
At Night
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Whut time 'd dat clock strike? Nine? Noeight;
I didn't think hit was so late.
Old-Fashioned Folks
© Edgar Albert Guest
OLD-FASHIONED folks! God bless 'em all!
The fathers an' the mothers,
On Leaving Italy, For The Summer, On Account Of Health
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Thou summer--land! that dost put on the sun
Not as a dress of pomp occasional,
But as thy natural and most fitting one,--
Yet still thy Beauty has its festival,
The Empty Glass
© Henry Lawson
THERE ARE three lank bards in a borrowed room
Ah! The number is one too few
The Mourners
© Caroline Norton
LOW she lies, who blest our eyes
Through many a sunny day;
She may not smile, she will not rise--
The life hath past away!
Quiet
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
COME not the earliest petal here, but only
Wind, cloud, and star,
Lovely and far,
Make it less lonely.
The Harp The Monarch Minstrel Swept
© George Gordon Byron
The harp the monarch minstrel swept,
The King of men, the loved of Heaven,
Dirge
© Herman Melville
Stay, Death, Not mine the Christus-wand
Wherewith to charge thee and command:
The Cup Of Joy
© Madison Julius Cawein
Let us mix a cup of Joy
That the wretched may employ,
Whom the Fates have made their toy.
The City Of The Soul: II
© Lord Alfred Douglas
Think how the hidden things that poets see
In amber eves or mornings crystalline,
Hide in the soul their constant quenchless light,
Till, called by some celestial alchemy,
Out of forgotten depths, they rise and shine
Like buried treasure on Midsummer night.
Chanson Des Yeux
© André Marie de Chénier
Ne me regarde point; cache, cache tes yeux;
Mon sang en est brûlé; tes regards sont des feux.
Viens, viens. Quoique vivant, et dans ta fleur première,
Je veux avec mes mains te fermer la paupière,
Ou, malgré tes efforts, je prendrai tes cheveux
Pour en faire un bandeau qui te cache les yeux.
