All Poems

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A Cidade da Bahia

© Gregorio de Matos Guerra

Triste Bahia! ó quão dessemelhante
Estás e estou do nosso antigo estado!
Pobre te vejo a ti, tu a mi empenhado,
Rica te vi eu já, tu a mi abundante.

Love And Life.

© Arthur Henry Adams

I.
AS some faint wisp of fragrance, floating wide
A pennant-perfume on the evening air
From a walled garden, flower-filled and fair,

But Here's An Object More Of Dread

© Abraham Lincoln

But here's an object more of dread
Than aught the grave contains--
A human form with reason fled,
While wretched life remains.

The Progress of Error

© William Cowper

Sing, muse (if such a theme, so dark, so long

May find a muse to grace it with a song),

A debtor to mercy alone, of covenant mercy I sing;
Nor fear, with Thy righteousness on, my person and offring to bring.
The terrors of law and of God with me can have nothing to do;
My Saviors obedience and blood hide all my transgressions from view.

Aunt Tabitha

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

WHATEVER I do, and whatever I say,
Aunt Tabitha tells me that is n't the way;
When she was a girl (forty summers ago)
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so.

Love Is A Terrible Thing

© Grace Fallow Norton

"For there is a flame that has blown too near,
And there is a name that has grown too dear,
And there is a fear"...

Refuge

© Archibald Lampman

Where swallows and wheatfields are,
O hamlet brown and still,
O river that shineth far,
By meadow, pier, and mill:

Spring Awoke To-Day

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

SPRING awoke to-day!
Somewhere--far away--
Spring awoke to-day
From the depth of dream.

Ave Caesar! Morituri Te Salutant

© Mary Hannay Foott

And they who raise it enter too,
With spectral looks and noiseless tread,
Unbidden, hold their dread review,
Beside the Emperors very bed.

The Comrades

© Katharine Tynan

The angels walk with men in the red ruin and rain,
White and gold, as of old, without spot or stain.
Our warriors fought and died, the white lords by their side.
The angels walk with men.

Sentence And Torment Of The Condemned

© Michael Wigglesworth

Where tender love mens hearts did move unto a sympathy,
And bearing part of others smart in their anxiety;
Now such compassion is out of fashion, and wholly laid aside:
No Friends so near, but Saints to hear their Sentence can abide.

Hermann And Dorothea - I. Kalliope

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

But the worthy landlord only smiled, and then answer'd
I shall dreadfully miss that ancient calico garment,
Genuine Indian stuff! They're not to be had any longer.
Well! I shall wear it no more. And your poor husband henceforward
Always must wear a surtout, I suppose, or commonplace jacket,
Always must put on his boots; good bye to cap and to slippers!"

August Moonrise

THE sun was gone, and the moon was coming
Over the blue Connecticut hills;
The west was rosy, the east was flushed,
And over my head the swallows rushed

Mountain Feast

© Ndre Mjeda

Under the axe-head
The ox's skull bursts by the stream.
(Today there will be great feasting!)

Once When We Bought Valentines

Slow we tiptoed in the shop, scarlet-cheeked and shy,
Half-elate, half-afraid to be asked to buy,
Sidling toward the prettiest on their swaying strings,
Laughing at the ugliest, monstrous painted things.
(Still the little thrill of fear life was strange, you knew
What if someone sometime sent one of those to you?)

The Wind

Each bucket of iron at the wells of the farmyards,
Each bucket and pulley, it creaks and it wails;
By cisterns of farmyards, the pulleys and pails
They creak and they cry,
The whole of sad death in their melancholy.

Italy : 38. Foreign Travel

It was in a splenetic humour that I sat me down to my
scanty fare at Terracina ; and how long I should have
contemplated the lean thrushes in array before me, I
cannot say, if a cloud of smoke, that drew the tears

Love Worn by Lita Hooper: American Life in Poetry #75 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

In many American poems, the poet makes a personal appearance and offers us a revealing monologue from center stage, but there are lots of fine poems in which the poet, a stranger in a strange place, observes the lives of others from a distance and imagines her way into them. This poem by Lita Hooper is a good example of this kind of writing. Love Worn

In a tavern on the Southside of Chicago
a man sits with his wife. From their corner booth
each stares at strangers just beyond the other's shoulder,
nodding to the songs of their youth. Tonight they will not fight.