All Poems
/ page 1170 of 3210 /The Fairest, Brightest, Hues Of Ether Fade
© William Wordsworth
The fairest, brightest, hues of ether fade;
The sweetest notes must terminate and die;
O Friend! thy flute has breathed a harmony
Softly resounded through this rocky glade;
Under a Statue of Peisander, Who Wrote the Labours of Heracles
© Theocritus
He whom ye gaze on was the first
That in quaint song the deeds rehearsed
Of him whose arm was swift to smite,
Who dared the lion to the fight:
Pikes Peak
© Eugene Field
I stood upon the peak, amid the air;
Below me lay the peopled, busy earth.
Life, life, and life again was everywhere,
And everywhere were melody and mirth,
Save on that peak, and silence brooded there.
Night Thoughts In Age
© John Hall Wheelock
Light, that out of the west looked back once more
Through lids of cloud, has closed a sleepy eye;
The Flag of our Destinies
© Henry Lawson
With our boundaries swung to the circling seas and a nation named to the world!
And the six-starred flag of our destinies on every port unfurled!
God grant from Greed or the dust of sleep or the right by a lie maintained
From all save our blood, if we must, well keep the silver and blue unstained!
My Garden
© Emily Dickinson
New feet within my garden go
New fingers stir the sod
A Troubadour upon the Elm
Betrays the solitude.
Speech For Psyche In The Golden Book Of Apuleius
© Ezra Pound
All night, and as the wind lieth among
The cypress trees, he lay,
Dearest, this one day we own
© Augusta Davies Webster
DEAREST, this one day we own,
Stolen from the crowd and press,
Let it be sweet silence's.
We two, heart in heart, alone;
Any speech were less.
Before Action
© Leon Gellert
We always had to do our work at night.
I wondered why we had to be so sly.
I wondered why we couldn't have our fight
Under the open sky.
Like Crusoe, Walking By The Lonely Strand
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Like Crusoe, walking by the lonely strand
And seeing a human footprint on the sand,
The Waterfall
© Henry Kendall
THE SONG of the water
Doomed ever to roam,
A beautiful exile,
Afar from its home.
Bowed With a Sense of Sin
© Augustus Montague Toplady
Bowed with a sense of sin, I faint
Beneath the complicated load;
Father, attend my deep complaint,
I am Thy creature, Thou my God.
Christmas Song of the Old Children
© George MacDonald
Well for youth to seek the strong,
Beautiful, and brave!
We, the old, who walk along
Gently to the grave,
Only pay our court to thee,
Child of all Eternity!
Returning To Brussels
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Upon a Flemish road, when noon was deep,
I passed a little consecrated shrine,
To The Gnat
© Samuel Rogers
When by the green-wood side, at summer eve,
Poetic visions charm my closing eye;
And fairy-scenes, that Fancy loves to weave,
Shift to wild notes of sweetest Minstrelsy;
Upon A Sheet Of White Paper
© John Bunyan
This subject is unto the foulest pen,
Or fairest handled by the sons of men.
'Twill also show what is upon it writ,
Be it wisely, or nonsense for want of wit,
Each blot and blur it also will expose
To thy next readers, be they friends or foes.
Until You've Found Pain
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Until you've found pain, you won't reach the cure
Until you've given up life, you won't unite with
the supreme soul
Until you've found fire inside yourself, like the Friend,
You won't reach the spring of life, like Khezr.
Verses Left by Mr. Pope
© Alexander Pope
With no poetic ardour fir'd
I press the bed where Wilmot lay;
That here he lov'd, or here expir'd,
Begets no numbers grave or gay.
Seven Laments For The War-Dead
© Yehuda Amichai
1
Mr. Beringer, whose son
fell at the Canal that strangers dug
so ships could cross the desert,
crosses my path at Jaffa Gate.