All Poems
/ page 1329 of 3210 /The Soldier
© Rupert Brooke
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
Whitechapel High Road
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Lusty life her river pours
Along a road of shining shores.
The moon of August beams
Mild as upon her harvest slopes; but here
Misgivings
© Herman Melville
When ocean-clouds over inland hills
Sweep storming in late autumn brown,
And horror the sodden valley fills,
And the spire falls crashing in the town,
A Thought of Henry Kendall
© Anonymous
Had I gone first he surely would have writ
Some kindly words in loving memory --
The Portent
© Herman Melville
Hanging from the beam,
Slowly swaying (such the law),
Gaunt the shadow on the green,
Shenandoah!
The Old Maid's Story
© Ada Cambridge
Ay, many and many a year's gone by,
Since the dawn of that day in spring,
Le Balcon (The Balcony)
© Charles Baudelaire
Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses,
Ô toi, tous mes plaisirs! ô toi, tous mes devoirs!
Tu te rappelleras la beauté des caresses,
La douceur du foyer et le charme des soirs,
Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses!
Art
© Herman Melville
In placid hours well-pleased we dream
Of many a brave unbodied scheme.
But form to lend, pulsed life create,
What unlike things must meet and mate:
Gold in the Mountain
© Herman Melville
Gold in the mountain,
And gold in the glen,
And greed in the heart,
Heaven having no part,
And unsatisfied men.
On The Final Submission Of The Tyrolese
© William Wordsworth
IT was a 'moral' end for which they fought;
Else how, when mighty Thrones were put to shame,
Could they, poor Shepherds, have preserved an aim,
A resolution, or enlivening thought?
Falstaff's Lament Over Prince Hal Become Henry V
© Herman Melville
One that I cherished,
Yea, loved as a son -
Up early, up late with,
My promising one:
No use in good nurture,
None, lads, none!
Lines Written On The Pillar Erecting To The Memory Of Mr. Barlow,
© Helen Maria Williams
Minister of the United States at Paris, WHO DIED AT NAROWITCH IN POLAND, ON HIS RETURN
FROM WILNA, DEC. 26, 1812.
The Forester
© Robert Bloomfield
Born in a dark wood's lonely dell,
Where echoes roar'd, and tendrils curl'd
Malvern Hill
© Herman Melville
We elms of Malvern Hill
Remember every thing;
But sap the twig will fill:
Wag the world how it will,
Leaves must be green in Spring.
To Hafiz
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
THOUGH gifts like thine the fates gave not to me,
One thing, O Hafiz, we both hold in fee
Chattanooga
© Herman Melville
(November, 1863)A kindling impulse seized the host
Inspired by heaven's elastic air;
Their hearts outran their General's plan,
Though Grant commanded there -
Aux proscrits
© Victor Marie Hugo
Semons ce qui demeure, ô passants que nous sommes !
Le sort est un abîme, et ses flots sont amers,
Au bord du noir destin, frères, semons des hommes,
Et des chênes au bord des mers !
The Enthusiast
© Herman Melville
"Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him"Shall hearts that beat no base retreat
In youth's magnanimous years -
Ignoble hold it, if discreet
When interest tames to fears;
Gettysburg
© Herman Melville
O Pride of the days in prime of the months
Now trebled in great renown,
When before the ark of our holy cause
Fell Dagon down-
Chiquita
© Francis Bret Harte
Beautiful! Sir, you may say so. Thar isn't her match in the county;
Is thar, old gal,--Chiquita, my darling, my beauty?
Feel of that neck, sir,--thar's velvet! Whoa! steady,--ah, will you,
you vixen!
Whoa! I say. Jack, trot her out; let the gentleman look at her paces.