All Poems

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The Lore-Lei

© Heinrich Heine

I know not whence it rises,
This thought so full of woe ;
But a tale of times departed
Haunts me, and will not go.

Songs In Sleep

© Anonymous

If I could frame for you in cunning words
The songs my heart in sleep is often singing,
You'd fancy, love, an orquestra of birds
Upon their quivering throats the dawn were bringing.

The mosques and churches float through our memories,
Prayers devoid of sense or taste echo from their walls.
Never has the heart of god been touched by them,
And yet it beats on amidst the sounds of drums and bells.

The Changeling

© James Russell Lowell

I had a little daughter,

And she was given to me

To Crazy Christian

© Ernest Hemingway

There was a cat named Crazy Christian

Who never lived long enough to screw

Sonnet X. To The Lady Margaret Ley

© John Milton

Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,

Epistle From Thhe Rhine

© Frances Anne Kemble

TO Y---,WITH A BOWL OF BOHEMIAN GLASS.

Cotton Mather

© Stephen Vincent Benet

1663-1728

Grim Cotton Mather

The Grey Monk (excerpts)

© William Blake

"I die, I die!" the Mother said,
"My children die for lack of bread.
What more has the merciless Tyrant said?"
The Monk sat down on the stony bed.

Epitaph On Holy Willie

© Robert Burns

Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay
Taks up its last abode;
His saul has ta'en some other way,
I fear, the left-hand road.

The Kalevala - Rune XLVII

© Elias Lönnrot

LOUHI STEALS SUN, MOON, AND FIRE.

Opium

© Madison Julius Cawein

_On reading De Quincey's "Confessions of an Opium Eater."_

Sonnet 12: Cupid, Because Thou

© Sir Philip Sidney

Cupid, because thou shin'st in Stella's eyes,
That from her locks, thy day-nets, noe scapes free,
That those lips swell, so full of thee they be,
That her sweet breath makes oft thy flames to rise,

La Priere de Nostre Dame

A.

Almighty and all-merciable Queen,

The Stranger's Gift

© Jones Very

I found far culled from fragrant field and grove

Each flower that makes our Spring a welcome guest;

The Passing of Scotty

© Henry Lawson

We leave our mark and we play our part
In the nations pregnant days,
And we find a place in the Bushmans heart
Ere we vanish beyond the haze.

The Wandering Jew

The stars are falling, and the sky

Is like a field of faded flowers;

In The Bazaars of Hyderabad

What do you sell O ye merchants ?
Richly your wares are displayed.
Turbans of crimson and silver,
Tunics of purple brocade,
Mirrors with panels of amber,
Daggers with handles of jade.

Things of great worth shall come to pass
By true foreknowledge and in fact,
Names worthier than mine in fame
And words which earned me men's esteem.