All Poems

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Queen Victoria at Spithead. Written on the Occassion of the Review by Her Majesty -

© Alaric Alexander Watts

Queen Victoria at Spithead. Written on the Occassion of the Review by Her Majesty, of the Experimental Fleet Under the Command of Admiral Hyde Parker, Spithead, on the 21st of June, 1845.

“Britannia rules the waves!”

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Hospital Window

© Allen Ginsberg

At gauzy dusk, thin haze like cigarette smoke

ribbons past Chrysler Building's silver fins

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Hawking

© Madison Julius Cawein

I.

  I see them still, when poring o'er

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Eclogue:--John An' Thomas

© William Barnes

  Well, there, the geärden stuff an' flow'rs
  Don't leäve me many idle hours;
  But still, though I mid plant or zow,
  'Tis Woone above do meäke it grow.

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Advice

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

W'EN you full o' worry

'Bout yo' wo'k an' sich,

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To A Female Friend,

© John Kenyon

RETURNING TO AMERICA.


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In Amsterdam

© Christian Frederik Louis Leipoldt

As ek vanaand so moedersiel
Alleen hier by die vuurherd sit,
Dan borrel my geheue op,
En maak my hart en siel uit lid;

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Waterfall

© James Thomson

Smooth to the shelving brink a copious flood
Rolls fair and placid: where collected all,
In one impetuous torrent down the steep
It thundering shoots, and shakes the country round.

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Grass

© Bai Juyi

The grass is spreading out across the plain,

Each year, it dies, then flourishes again.

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Amaryllis

© Thomas Campion

I care not for these ladies that must be wooed and prayed;
Give me kind Amaryllis, the wanton country maid.
Nature Art disdaineth; her beauty is her own.
Her when we court and kiss, she cries: forsooth, let go!
But when we come where comfort is, she never will say no.

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This Is The Night

© Sugawara Takesue no Musume

This is the night when in the ancient Past,
The Herder Star embarked to meet the Weaving One;
In its sweet remembrance the wave rises high in the River of Heaven. [39]
Even so swells my heart to see the famous book.

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To The Nightingale, Which The Author Heard Sing On New Year's Day

© William Cowper

Whence it is, that amazed I hear
From yonder withered spray,
This foremost morn of all the year,
The melody of May?

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Gentildonna

© Ezra Pound

She passed and left no quiver in the veins, who now
Moving among the trees, and clinging
in the air she severed,
Fanning the grass she walked on then, endures:
Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-cold sky.

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To the Memory of My Beloved Author, Mr. William Shakespeare

© Benjamin Jonson

To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name,

 Am I thus ample to thy book and fame;

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Unchangeable Mother

© Edgar Albert Guest

Mothers never change, I guess,

In their tender thoughtfulness.

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Songs For The Soldiers

© Isabella Valancy Crawford

IF songs be sung let minstrels strike their harps
To large and joyous strains, all thunder-winged
To beat along vast shores. Ay, let their notes
Wild into eagles soaring toward the sun,

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Friendship

© Hartley Coleridge

When we were idlers with the loitering rills,
The need of human love we little noted:
Our love was nature; and the peace that floated
On the white mist, and dwelt upon the hills,

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At Castle Wood

© Emily Jane Brontë

The day is done, the winter sun
Is setting in its sullen sky;
And drear the course that has been run,
And dim the hearts that slowly die.

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The Song Of Hiawatha XIII: Blessing The Cornfields

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sing, O Song of Hiawatha,

Of the happy days that followed,