All Poems
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Enceladus
© Alfred Noyes
And hungered, yet no comrade of the wolf,
And cold, but with no power upon the sun,
A master of this world that mastered him!
Captain Von Esson of the Sebastopol
© Henry Lawson
Till each was sunk that the Russians leftwhile the buildings reeled with the shock,
Save the last of the Russian ships of warthe Sebastopolin dock.
And this is the reasontold in a linewhy there is a tale to tell:
The Sebastopol had a man for boss, and a crew that knew it well.
Between The Gates
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Between the gates of birth and death
An old and saintly pilgrim passed,
With look of one who witnesseth
The long-sought goal at last.
St. Johns Day
© John Keble
"Lord, and what shall this man do?"
Ask'st thou, Christian, for thy friend?
If his love for Christ be true,
Christ hath told thee of his end:
This is he whom God approves,
This is he whom Jesus loves.
A Lamentacioun Of The Grene Tree, Complaynyng Of The Losyng Of Hire Appill.
© Thomas Hoccleve
Ofader god, how fers & how cruel, In whom the list or wilt, canst þou the make!Whom wilt thu spare? ne wot I neuere a deel,Sithe thu thi sone hast to the deth be-take,That the offended neuere, ne dide wrake, Or mystook him to the, or disobeyde,Ne to non othere dide he harm, or seide.
I had ioye éntiere, & also gladnesse, Whan þou be-took him me to clothe & wrappeIn mannës flesch. I wend, in sothfastnesse,Have had for euere Ioyë be the lappe;But now hath sorwe caught me with his trappe; Mi ioye hath made a permutaciounWith wepyng & eek lamentacioun.
A Fantasy
© Sara Teasdale
Her voice is like clear water
That drips upon a stone
In forests far and silent
Where Quiet plays alone.
Love Like Salt by Lisel Mueller: American Life in Poetry #16 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-200
© Ted Kooser
There are thousands upon thousands of poems about love, many of them using predictable words, predictable rhymes. Ho-hum. But here the Illinois poet Lisel Mueller talks about love in a totally fresh and new way, in terms of table salt.
Love Like Salt
It lies in our hands in crystals
too intricate to decipher
The Power Of God
© John Crowe Ransom
But my pity would plague me still! In the fare of my state
I would summon my ministers often to reprobate:
Night Movement-New York
© Carl Sandburg
IN the night, when the sea-winds take the city in their arms,
And cool the loud streets that kept their dust noon and afternoon;
Wild Grapes
© Kenneth Slessor
The old orchard, full of smoking air,
Full of sour marsh and broken boughs, is there,
But kept no more by vanished Mulligans,
Or Hartigans, long drowned in earth themselves,
Who gave this bitter fruit their care.
My Spectre Around Me Night and Day
© William Blake
i
My spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.
November 1813
© William Wordsworth
Now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright,
Our aged Sovereign sits, to the ebb and flow
Of states and kingdoms, to their joy or woe,
Insensible. He sits deprived of sight,
The Cathedral Porch
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Towering, towering up to the noon--blaze,
Up to the hot blue, up to blinding gold,
Pillar and pinnacle, arch and corbel, scrolled,
Flowered and tendrilled, soar, aspire and raise
Buttercups and Daisies
© Eliza Cook
I never see a young hand hold
The starry bunch of white and gold,
Knock On The Door
© Conrad Aiken
Knock on the door, and you shall have an answer!
Open the heavy walls to set me free,
Skilsmissen
© Jens Baggesen
Hun
Snart hæves jeg til Lysets Sæde;
Mig Gravens Mørke skrækker ei;
O! doppelt døde jeg med Glæde,
Hvis nogen elskte dig, som jeg.
Song Of Yoomy
© Herman Melville
Departed the pride, and the glory of Mardi:
The vaunt of her isles sleeps deep in the sea,
