All Poems
/ page 1285 of 3210 /A Lesson From Golf
© Edgar Albert Guest
He couldn't use his driver any better on the tee
Than the chap that he was licking, who just happened to be me;
I could hit them with a brassie just as straight and just as far,
But I piled up several sevens while he made a few in par;
And he trimmed me to a finish, and I know the reason why:
He could keep his temper better when he dubbed a shot than I.
Twilight Of Freedom
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
Let us glorify, brothers, the twilight of freedom --
The great twilight year.
A weighty forest of nets is lowered
Into the bubbling waters of night.
You are rising into desolate years,
O sun, judge, people.
The Old Wooden Tub
© Edgar Albert Guest
I like to get to thinking of the old days that are gone,
When there were joys that never more the world will look upon,
The days before inventors smoothed the little cares away
And made, what seemed but luxuries then, the joys of every day;
When bathrooms were exceptions, and we got our weekly scrub
By standing in the middle of a little wooden tub.
Letter From A Missionary Of The Methodist Episcopal Church South, In Kansas, To A Distinguished Poli
© John Greenleaf Whittier
LAST week the Lord be praised for all His mercies
To His unworthy servant! I arrived
Safe at the Mission, via Westport; where
I tarried over night, to aid in forming
Unrisen Splendour Of The Brightest Sun
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Unrisen splendour of the brightest sun,
To rise upon our darkness, if the star
Now beckoning thee out of thy misty throne
Could thaw the clouds which wage an obscure war
With thy young brightness!
Brandenburgh Harvest-Song
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
The corn, in golden light,
Waves o'er the plain;
The sickle's gleam is bright;
Full swells the grain.
Young Sycamore
© William Carlos Williams
I must tell you
this young tree
whose round and firm trunk
between the wet
A Lament for the Fairies
© Alaric Alexander Watts
O, ye have lost,
Mountains, and moors, and meads, the radiant throng
To Weep Because
© Sri Aurobindo
To weep because a glorious sun has set
Which the next morn shall gild the east again;
To mourn that mighty strengths must yield to fate
Which by that force a double strength attain;
Madhushala (The Tavern)
© Harivansh Rai Bachchan
Seeking wine, the drinker leaves home for the tavern.
Perplexed, he asks, "Which path will take me there?"
People show him different ways, but this is what I have to say,
"Pick a path and keep walking. You will find the tavern."
Suppose
© Walter de la Mare
Suppose ... and suppose that a wild little Horse of Magic
Came cantering out of the sky,
With bridle of silver, and into the saddle I mounted,
To fly and to fly;
Hymn for Atonement Day
© Yehudah HaLevi
Lord, Your humble servants hear,
Suppliant now before You,
Our Father, from Your children's plea
Turn not, we implore You!
A Poet Of One Mood
© Alice Meynell
A poet of one mood in all my lays,
Ranging all life to sing one only love,
Like a west wind across the world I move,
Sweeping my harp of floods mine own wild ways.
The Dying Bard
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Dinas Emlinn, lament; for the moment is nigh,
When mute in the woodlands thine echoes shall die:
No more by sweet Teivi Cadwallon shall rave,
And mix his wild notes with the wild dashing wave.
Dawn Wind
© Lola Ridge
I see you
Shaking that flower at me with soft invitation
And frisking away,
Deliciously rumpling the grass…
My Bohemian Existence
© Arthur Rimbaud
I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;
my overcoat too was becoming ideal;
I travelled beneath the sky,
Muse! and I was your vassal;