All Poems
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Paddy's Letter, 1857
© Anonymous
I've had all sorts of luck, sometimes bad, sometimes better,
But now I have somebody's luck and my own,
For I stooped in the street and I picked up a letter,
Which some one had written to send away home.
The Woddy Hollow
© William Barnes
If mem'ry, when our hope's a-gone,
Could bring us dreams to cheat us on,
My Birthday
© John Henry Newman
Let the sun summon all his beams to hold
Bright pageant in his court, the cloud-paved sky
The Dead Child
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Sleep on, dear, now
The last sleep and the best,
And on thy brow,
And on thy quiet breast
Violets I throw.
Noontide Retreat of Summer As a Haunt for Meditation
© James Thomson
Shook sudden from the bosom of the sky,
A thousand shapes, or glide athwart the dusk,
Or stalk majestic on. Deep-roused, I feel
A sacred terror, a severe delight,
The Botanic Garden (Part VIII)
© Erasmus Darwin
"Sweet ECHO! sleeps thy vocal shell,
"Where this high arch o'erhangs the dell;
"While Tweed with sun-reflecting streams
"Chequers thy rocks with dancing beams?-
When All Has Been Said And Done.
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"Perhaps it will all come right at last;
It may be, when all is done,
We shall be together in some good world,
Where to wish and to have are one."
--STODDARD.
For Lillian
© Robert Crawford
She was so dear, so fair. Her memory stays,
Even her dying robs me not of this,
Come slowly
© Emily Dickinson
Come slowly, Eden
Lips unused to thee.
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,
Babyhood
© James Whitcomb Riley
Heigh-ho! Babyhood! Tell me where you linger:
Let's toddle home again, for we have gone astray;
Take this eager hand of mine and lead me by the finger
Back to the Lotus lands of the far-away.
Where Innocent Bright-Eyed Daisies Are
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Where innocent bright-eyed daisies are,
With blades of grass between,
Each daisy stands up like a star
Out of a sky of green.
The springtime of Lovers has come
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
The springtime of Lovers has come,
that this dust bowl may become a garden;
An Open Boat
© Alfred Noyes
O, what is that whimpering there in the darkness?
"Let him lie in my arms. He is breathing, I know.
Look. I'll wrap all my hair round his neck" - "The sea's rising,
The boat must be lightened. He's dead. He must go."
Chanson de Gavroche
© Victor Marie Hugo
Monsieur Prudhomme est un veau
Qui s'enrhume du cerveau
Au moindre vent frais qui souffle.
Prudhomme, c'est la pantoufle
Qu'un roi met sous ses talons
Pour marcher à reculons.
By The Sea
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Last night a hand on my window tapped,
A voice came out of the sea,
I Love Sensual Women
© Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
I love sensual women and not passionate ones. A passionate woman closes her eyes, moans and shouts and the enjoyment of a passionate woman is blind.
A passionate woman writhes about, grabs you with her hands without looking where, clasps you, kisses you, even bites you and hurries to reach her climax as soon as she can. She has no time to display her sexual organs, no time to examine, touch with the hand and kiss your sexual organs, she is in such a hurry to slake her passion. Having slaked her passion, the passionate woman will fall asleep. The sexual organs of a passionate woman are dry. A passionate woman is always in some way or another mannish.
Indolence
© Robert Fuller Murray
Fain would I shake thee off, but weak am I
Thy strong solicitations to withstand.
Plenty of work lies ready to my hand,
Which rests irresolute, and lets it lie.
