All Poems
/ page 1305 of 3210 /A Fragment Of Simonides
© Henry James Pye
Danaë, with her infant Son Perseus, was exposed in a Vessel to the fury of the waves, by order of her Father Acrisius.
Fragment VI
© James Macpherson
Son of the noble Fingal, Oscian,
Prince of men! what tears run down
the cheeks of age? what shades thy
mighty soul?
A Woman's Complaint
© Anonymous
I know that deep within your heart of hearts
You hold me shrined apart from common things,
And that my step, my voice, can bring to you
A gladness that no other pleasure brings.
The Seven Isles
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I dream of western waters, and of the Seven Isles,
And of mornings when they appear
Flowering out of the mist on a sea of smiles,
Warm and familiar and near.
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter V
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Griselda's madness lasted forty days,
Forty eternities! Men went their ways,
And suns arose and set, and women smiled,
And tongues wagged lightly in impeachment wild
Survival
© Edith Wharton
When you and I, like all things kind or cruel,
The garnered days and light evasive hours,
Are gone again to be a part of flowers
And tears and tides, in lifes divine renewal,
The Poets Lot
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHAT is a poet's love?--
To write a girl a sonnet,
To get a ring, or some such thing,
And fustianize upon it.
Two Or Three
© John Keats
Two or three Posies
With two or three simples--
Two or three Noses
With two or three pimples--
Ballad Of Human Life
© Thomas Lovell Beddoes
WHEN we were girl and boy together,
We tossd about the flowers
Epilogue Intended To Have Been Spoken For 'She Stoops To Conquer'
© Oliver Goldsmith
'Enter' MRS. BULKLEY,
'who curtsies very low as beginning to speak.
Then enter' MISS CATLEY,
'who stands full before her, and curtsies to the audience'.
The Dreamers
© William Wilfred Campbell
THEY lingered on the middle heights
Betwixt the brown earth and the heaven;
They whispered, 'We are not the night's,
But pallid children of the even.'
The Swan-Neck
© Charles Kingsley
Thus fell Harold, bracelet-giver;
Jesu rest his soul for ever;
Angles all from thrall deliver;
Miserere Domine.
Deus Misereatur
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
PLEASANT the ways whereon our feet were led,
Sweet the young hills, the valleys of content,
But now the hours of dew and dream have fled.
Lord, we are spent.
The Song Of Hiawatha XVIII: The Death Of Kwasind
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Far and wide among the nations
Spread the name and fame of Kwasind;
The Temperance Army
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Though you see no banded army,
Though you hear no cannons rattle,