All Poems

/ page 1291 of 3210 /

Order by :

Signs

© Edgar Albert Guest

It's "be a good boy, Willie,"

And it's "run away and play,

Words

© Nizar Qabbani

He lets me listen, when he moves me,

Words are not like other words

Deniall

© George Herbert

When my devotions could not pierce
Thy silent ears;
Then was my heart broken, as was my verse:
My breast was full of fears
And disorder:

The Little Lady Of The Bullock Cart

Now is the time when India is gay
With wedding parties; and the radiant throngs
Seem like a scattered rainbow taking part
In human pleasures. Dressed in bright array,
They fling upon the bride their wreaths of songs-
The Little Lady of the Bullock Cart.

The Secret

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

IF I should tell you what I know
Of where the first primroses grow,
Betray the secrets of the lily,
Bring crocus-gold and daffodilly,
Would you tell me if charm there be
To win a maiden, willy-nilly?

The Old Unrest.

© Robert Crawford

That which made us seems to fret
Like a pang within us yet,
As if we unfinished were,
Such blind gropings in us stir,

On a Wet Day

© Franco Sacchetti

As I walked thinking through a little grove,

Some girls that gathered flowers came passing me,

Richard Corey

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

WHENEVER Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

My Three Loves

© Henry Sambrooke Leigh

When Life was all a summer day,

And I was under twenty,

The Year's Shreddings

© George Meredith

The varied colours are a fitful heap:
They pass in constant service though they sleep;
The self gone out of them, therewith the pain:
Read that, who still to spell our earth remain.

Fairy Sketch

© William Lisle Bowles

SCENE--NETLEY ABBEY.

There was a morrice on the moonlight plain,

Extract From The Conclusion Of A Poem Composed In Anticipation Of Leaving School

Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
Far in the regions of the west,
Though to the vale no parting beam
Be given, not one memorial gleam,
A lingering light he fondly throws
On the dear hills where first he rose.

Pygmalion And The Statue

© Ovid

PYGMALION loathing their lascivious Life,

Abhorred all Womankind, but most a Wife:

On Mr. Gay

Of Manners gentle, of Affections mild;

In Wit, a Man; Simplicity, a Child:

Coquette [Among The Family Portraits.]

Therefore, sweet flesh and blood, I trust
That, ere ye passed to senseless dust,
Your beauty played a worthier part--
The love-rôle of the loyal heart.
. . . . .