All Poems

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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 observatory—whence the dell,

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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!"

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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.

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The National Paintings

© Joseph Rodman Drake

Awake,ye forms of verse divine!

  Painting! descend on canvas wing,—

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An Inscription

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

At this fair oak table sat
Whilom he our Laureate,
Poet, handicraftsman, sage,
Light of our Victorian age,

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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;

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To Victor Hugo

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

  IN the fair days when God

  By man as godlike trod,

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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."

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The Cloud Chorus

© Aristophanes

SOCRATES SPEAKS

  Hither, come hither, ye Clouds renowned, and unveil yourselves

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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.

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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

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Willow-Pipes

© Duncan Campbell Scott

So in the shadow by the nimble flood

He made her whistles of the willow wood,

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Ghazal 6

© Daagh Dehlvi


dil le k muft kahte hain kuch kam ka nahin
ulti shikayaten rahi ehsan to gaya

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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.

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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, 

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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?

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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.

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The Torrent

© Mathilde Blind

OH torrent, roaring in thy giant fall,

  And thund'ring grandly o'er th' opposing blocks,

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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.

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The Blessed Day

© Louisa May Alcott

"What shall little children bring

  On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day?