All Poems
/ page 1214 of 3210 /Why We Fight
© Edgar Albert Guest
This is the thing we fight:
A cry of terror in the night;
A ship on work of mercy bent
A carrier of the sick and maimed
Beneath the cruel waters sent,
And those that did it, unashamed.
To Sylvia
© Giacomo Leopardi
O Sylvia, dost thou remember still
That period of thy mortal life,
When beauty so bewildering
Shone in thy laughing, glancing eyes,
As thou, so merry, yet so wise,
Youth's threshold then wast entering?
Soul-Drift
© Mathilde Blind
I LET my soul drift with the thistledown
Afloat upon the honeymooning breeze;
My thoughts about the swelling buds are blown,
Blown with the golden dust of flowering trees.
An Italian Song
© Samuel Rogers
Dear is my little native vale,
The ring-dove builds and murmurs there;
Close by my cot she tells her tale
To every passing villager.
The squirrel leaps from tree to tree,
And shells his nuts at liberty.
Cautionary Tales for Children: Introduction
© Hilaire Belloc
And is it True? It is not True.
And if it were it wouldnt do,
Song II
© Sara Teasdale
Like some rare queen of old romance
Who loved the gleam of helm and lance
Is she.
A harper of King Arthur's days
Lines on A Fly-Leaf
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I need not ask thee, for my sake,
To read a book which well may make
Craven
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Over the turret, shut in his iron-clad tower,
Craven was conning his ship through smoke and flame;
Gun to gun he had battered the fort for an hour,
Now was the time for a charge to end the game.
The Neckar
© Friedrich Hölderlin
My heart awakened to life in your valleys,
Your waves played around me.
And all of the fair hills that know you,
Wayfarer, are known to me as well.
Wapping Old Stairs
© William Makepeace Thackeray
"Your Molly has never been false, she declares,
Since the last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs;
The Winter's Walk
© Samuel Johnson
Behold, my fair, where'er we rove,
What dreary prospects round us rise,
The naked hill, the leafless grove,
The hoary ground, the frowning skies.
As In The Midst Of Battle There Is Room
© George Santayana
As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;
The Marriage Of Geraint
© Alfred Tennyson
'Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine, storm, and cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.
I would go home againto rooms...
© Boris Pasternak
I would go home againto rooms
With sadness large at eventide,
Go in, take off my overcoat,
And in the light of streets outside
Laus Deo
© Madison Julius Cawein
IN her vast church of glimmering blue,
Gray-stoled from feet to chin,
Her dark locks beaded with the dew,
The nun-like dawn comes in:
November, 1851
© George MacDonald
Why wilt thou stop and start?
Draw nearer, oh my heart,
And I will question thee most wistfully;
Gather thy last clear resolution
To look upon thy dissolution.
A Tumbler Of Claret
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I poured out a tumbler of Claret,
Of course with intention to drink,
Echte Liebe
© Joseph Freiherr Von Eichendorff
Lau in der Nacht mag ich nimmer sein, -
Kalt oder brennend wie ein lohes Feuer!
O, Lust und Leiden sind nur farblos, klein,
Wo Liebe nicht ergriffen hat das Steuer!