All Poems
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A World Worth Living In
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
One who claims that he knows about it
Tells me the earth is a vale of sin;
Overseas
© Madison Julius Cawein
When Fall drowns morns in mist, it seems
In soul I am a part of it;
A portion of its humid beams,
A form of fog, I seem to flit
From dreams to dreams….
Moritura
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
A song of the setting sun!
The sky in the west is red,
And the day is all but done:
While yonder up overhead,
All too soon,
There rises, so cold, the cynic moon.
One and Oneare One
© Emily Dickinson
One and Oneare One
Twobe finished using
Well enough for Schools
But for Minor Choosing
On Parting
© George Gordon Byron
The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left
Shall never part from mine,
Till happier hours restore the gift
Untainted back to thine.
Female Beauty
© Mark Akenside
Felices ter et amplius
Quos irrupta tenet Copula, nec malis
Divulsus querimoniis,
Suprema citius solvet amor die.
Memory
© Louisa Stuart Costello
The high grass waves, with varied hues
Of wild flowers glowing 'mid the green;
The woods have caught a deeper shade,
And darkly skirt the distant scene.
Dear Hands
© James Whitcomb Riley
The touches of her hands are like the fall
Of velvet snowflakes; like the touch of down
The peach just brushes 'gainst the garden wall;
The flossy fondlings of the thistle-wisp
Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of brown
The blighting frost hath turned from green to crisp.
Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes?
© Theocritus
Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes?
Thy kid was a fair one, I own:
But the wolf with his cruel claw made her his prize,
And to darkness her spirit hath flown.
Do the dogs cry? What boots it? In spite of their cries
There is left of her never a bone.
Sonnet
© Arthur Symons
Yea, why should God, seeing that you are loft,
Not by the scented devils of your pride?
Now at the mercy of the Teraphims
You are hurled onward by the wandering host
Of winds that in the Midnight's heart abide
Naked between the Dragon's writhing limbs.
Dreaming In The Trenches
© William Gordon McCabe
I picture her there in the quaint old room,
Where the fading fire-light starts and falls,
Alone in the twilight's tender gloom
With the shadows that dance on the dim-lit walls.
To A Gentleman That Only Upon The Sight Of The Author's Wri
© Andrew Marvell
Quis posthac chartae committat sensa loquaci,
Si sua crediderit Fata subesse stylo?
Conscia si prodat Seribentis Litera sortem,
Quicquid & in vita plus latuisse velit?
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7
© Publius Vergilius Maro
AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;
Camptown Races
© Stephen C. Foster
De Camptown ladies sing dis song -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Camptown racetrack five miles long -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin -- Oh! doo-dah day!
The Kiss --- English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
Two pairs of lips
Seem to whisper into each others ears
The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me
© James Whitcomb Riley
Uncle Sidney, when he wuz here,
Maked me a squirtgun out o' some
Elder-bushes 'at growed out near
Where wuz the brickyard--'way out clear
To where the toll-gate come!
