All Poems
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When at Thy Footstool, Lord, I Bend
© Henry Francis Lyte
When at Thy footstool, Lord, I bend,
And plead with Thee for mercy there,
Think of the sinners dying Friend,
And for His sake receive my prayer.
Fanscomb Barn
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
In Fanscomb Barn (who knows not Fanscomb Barn?)
Seated between the sides of rising Hills,
Prevision
© Aline Murray Kilmer
I know you are too dear to stay;
You are so exquisitely sweet:
My lonely house will thrill some day
To echoes of your eager feet.
The Autumn Wind
© Caroline Norton
Back to the barren hill and lonely glen!
Here let the wandering of thy echoes cease;
Sadly thou soundest to the hearts of men,--
Hush thy wild voice, and let the earth have peace;
Or, if no chain thy restless will can bind,
Sweep thro' the desert, moaning autumn wind!
O Necessite Dure!
© André Marie de Chénier
O nécessité dure! ô pesant esclavage!
O sort! je dois donc voir, et dans mon plus bel âge,
Flotter mes jours, tissus de désirs et de pleurs,
Dans ce flux et reflux d'espoir et de douleurs!
Chinese Poet Among Barbarians
© John Gould Fletcher
The rain drives, drives endlessly,
Heavy threads of rain;
On A Cattle Track
© Henry Kendall
Where the strength of dry thunder splits hill-rocks asunder,
And the shouts of the desert-wind break,
Night-Scene in Genoa
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
He pauses - from the partiarch's brow
There beams more lofty grandeur now;
His reverend form, his aged hand,
Assume a gesture of command,
His voice is awful, and his eye
Fill's with prophetic majesty.
Kiama Revisited
© Henry Kendall
WE STOOD by the window and hearkened
To the voice of the runnels sea-driven,
His Footstep
© Katharine Tynan
The boy will come no more
Although I listen and long;
The sound of his foot on the floor
Was like an old song.
The Linnet And The Cat
© Helen Maria Williams
WHEN fading Autumn's latest hours
Strip the brown wood, and chill the flowers,--
Opvaagnen
© Jens Baggesen
Smil, som jeg vil evig aldrig glemme!
Haandtryk, som jeg død skal end fornemme!
Kys, som druknede min Aand i Gud!
Var I meer end Udspring af det milde
Barnligfromme Hiertes Godheds Kilde?
Var I Nannas Elskovs Sendebud?
Pauper Poet's Song
© Mathilde Blind
Sun, moon, and stars, the ample air,
The birds shrill whistling everywhere,
Three Songs
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Nothing came here but sunlight,
Nothing fell here but rain,
Nothing blew but the mellow wind,
Here are the flowers again!
The Time Before Death
© Kabir
Friend? hope for the Guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think... and think... while you are alive.
What you call "salvation" belongs to the time
before death.
