All Poems
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Jealousy
© Franklin Pierce Adams
My reason reels, my cheeks grow pale,
My heart becomes unduly spiteful,
My verses in the _Evening Mail_
Are far from snappy and delightful.
I put a civil question, Lyddy:
Is that a way to treat one's stiddy?
Grey Eyes.
© Arthur Henry Adams
SHE glanced across the path to me,
Grey eyes!
Her looks were kisses plain to see.
I gave her glances back to her
Decline And Fall
© John Frederick Nims
Cornice rose in ranges, rose so high
It saw no sky, that forum, but noon sky.
Marble shone like shallows; columns too
Streamed with cool light as rocks in breakers do.
Curtius
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Why, love, how darkly gaze thine eyes in mine!
If loved I dismal thoughts I well could deem
Thou sawest not the blue of my fond eyes,
But looked between the lips of that dread pit,-
O Jove! to name it seems to curse the air
With chills of death! We'll speak not of it, Curtius.
Loneliness
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
The night has passed, waiting, the star-dust is settling
Sleepy candle-flames are flickering in distant palaces
Every pathway has passed into sleep, tired of waiting
Alien dust has smudged all traces of footsteps
Drought Year
© Judith Wright
That time of drought the embered air
burned to the roots of timber and grass.
The crackling lime-scrub would not bear
and Mooni Creek was sand that year.
The dingo's cry was strange to hear.
The Golden Boat
© Rabindranath Tagore
Clouds rumbling in the sky; teeming rain.
I sit on the river bank, sad and alone.
The sheaves lie gathered, harvest has ended,
The river is swollen and fierce in its flow.
As we cut the paddy it started to rain.
The Ocean
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
HE that in venturous barks hath been
A wanderer on the deep,
Can tell of many an awful scene,
Where storms for ever sweep.
The Stable Of Bethlehem
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Twas not a palace proud and fair
He chose for His first home;
The Lament of Toby, The Learned Pig
© Thomas Hood
Oh, heavy day! oh, day of woe!
To misery a poster,
Why was I ever farrowed, why
Not spitted for a roaster?
Song #9.
© Robert Crawford
In the hour when Day reposes
Like a vision on the sea,
When thought his tired pinion closes,
One with hope and memory,
Night Song
© John Gould Fletcher
Ask me no more but love,
-- See, the west is all roses! --
Darkness comes down from above;
No more -- the hour closes;
Ironing After Midnight by Marsha Truman Cooper: American Life in Poetry #69 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La
© Ted Kooser
This marvelous poem by the California poet Marsha Truman Cooper perfectly captures the world of ironing, complete with its intimacy. At the end, doing a job to perfection, pressing the perfect edge, establishes a reassuring order to an otherwise mundane and slightly tawdry world.
Ironing After Midnight
Anecdote For Fathers
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
By the late W. W. (of H.M. Inland Revenue Service).
And is it so? Can Folly stalk
Man
© Henry Vaughan
Weighing the steadfastness and state
Of some mean things which here below reside,
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto IV
© Richard Savage
Still o'er my mind wild Fancy holds her sway,
Still on strange visionary land I stray.
Now scenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!
Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!
A Common Thought
© Henry Timrod
Somewhere on this earthly planet
In the dust of flowers to be,
In the dewdrop, in the sunshine,
Sleeps a solemn day for me.
