All Poems
/ page 1175 of 3210 /Sonnet VII. To Solitude
© John Keats
O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,
Nature's observatorywhence the dell,
Phrenology
© William Schwenck Gilbert
"COME, collar this bad man -
Around the throat he knotted me
Till I to choke began -
In point of fact, garotted me!"
Second Sunday After Easter
© John Keble
O for a sculptor's hand,
That thou might'st take thy stand,
Thy wild hair floating on the eastern breeze,
Thy tranced yet open gaze
Fixed on the desert haze,
As one who deep in heaven some airy pageant sees.
The National Paintings
© Joseph Rodman Drake
Awake,ye forms of verse divine!
Painting! descend on canvas wing,
An Inscription
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
At this fair oak table sat
Whilom he our Laureate,
Poet, handicraftsman, sage,
Light of our Victorian age,
A Letter from a Candidate for the Presidency
© James Russell Lowell
Dear Sir-You wish to know my notions
On sartin pints thet rile the land;
Son Davie! Son Davie!
© Andrew Lang
"What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
Son Davie! Son Davie!
What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
And the truth come tell to me, O."
The Cloud Chorus
© Aristophanes
SOCRATES SPEAKS
Hither, come hither, ye Clouds renowned, and unveil yourselves
Elegy Of Lincoln
© Joseph Furphy
Lincoln is gone who ruled the Western Land
From the Pacific to the Atlantic's brim
And cold and nerveless lies the mighty hand
That struck the fetters from the negro's limb.
The Gleaners.
© Robert Crawford
They sang, that were the young world's gleaners,
Like birds on a bough,
Reaping the first-fruits of love's sowing;
The reapers now
Willow-Pipes
© Duncan Campbell Scott
So in the shadow by the nimble flood
He made her whistles of the willow wood,
Ghazal 6
© Daagh Dehlvi
dil le k muft kahte hain kuch kam ka nahin
ulti shikayaten rahi ehsan to gaya
The Word Quick And Powerful
© John Newton
The word of Christ, our Lord,
With whom we have to do;
Is sharper than a two-edged sword,
To pierce the sinner through.
I Stood Tip-Toe Upon A Little Hill
© John Keats
I stood tip-toe upon a little hill,
The air was cooling, and so very still,
That the sweet buds which with a modest pride
Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside,
Quatrains Of Life
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?
Arise, O Gardener
© Ghulam Ahmad Mahjoor
Arise, O Gardener! And usher in the glory of a new spring.
Create conditions for 'bulbuls' (a type of bird) to
Hover over full-blown roses.
The Torrent
© Mathilde Blind
OH torrent, roaring in thy giant fall,
And thund'ring grandly o'er th' opposing blocks,
The Emperor's Glove. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On St. Bavon's tower, commanding
Half of Flanders, his domain,
Charles the Emperor once was standing,
While beneath him on the landing
Stood Duke Alva and his train.
The Blessed Day
© Louisa May Alcott
"What shall little children bring
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day?