All Poems
/ page 1375 of 3210 /
544. SongCrowdie ever mair
© Robert Burns
O THAT I had neer been married,
I wad never had nae care,
Now Ive gotten wife an weans,
An they cry Crowdie evermair.
The Dance Of Death
© Henry Austin Dobson
He is the despots' Despot. All must bide,
Later or soon, the message of his might;
127. Stanzas on Naething
© Robert Burns
TO you, sir, this summons Ive sent,
Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing;
But if you demand what I want,
I honestly answer younaething.
The Miracle Of Padre Junipero
© Francis Bret Harte
This is the tale that the Chronicle
Tells of the wonderful miracle
Wrought by the pious Padre Serro,
The very reverend Junipero.
55. The Twa Herds; or, The Holy Tulyie
© Robert Burns
Then Shaws an Drymples eloquence,
MGills close nervous excellence
MQuhaes pathetic manly sense,
An guid MMath,
Wi Smith, wha thro the heart can glance,
May a pack aff.
466. Ode for General Washingtons Birthday
© Robert Burns
NO Spartan tube, no Attic shell,
No lyre Æolian I awake;
Tis libertys bold note I swell,
Thy harp, Columbia, let me take!
The Impossibility Conquered : Or, Love Your Neighbour As Yourself.
© Hannah More
Who loves himself to great excess,
You'll grant must love his neighbour less;
When self engrosses all the heart
How can another have a part?
Then if self-love most men enthrall,
A neighbour's share is none at all.
118. A Bards Epitaph
© Robert Burns
Reader, attend! whether thy soul
Soars fancys flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,
In low pursuit:
Know, prudent, cautious, self-control
Is wisdoms root.
158. SongThe Bonie Moor-hen
© Robert Burns
THE HEATHER was blooming, the meadows were mawn,
Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at the dawn,
Oer moors and oer mosses and mony a glen,
At length they discoverd a bonie moor-hen.
113. A Dedication to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
© Robert Burns
The Poet, some guid angel help him,
Or else, I fear, some ill ane skelp him!
He may do weel for a hes done yet,
But onlyhes no just begun yet.
The Gadfly
© John Keats
1.
All gentle folks who owe a grudge
To any living thing
Open your ears and stay your t[r]udge
Whilst I in dudgeon sing.
29. SongThe Rigs o Barley
© Robert Burns
Corn rigs, an barley rigs,
An corn rigs are bonie:
Ill neer forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi Annie.
The Heron
© Madison Julius Cawein
The whimp'ring creek breaks on the stone;
The new moon came, but now is gone;
White, tingling stars wink out alone.
Lank specter of wet, windy lands,
The melancholy heron stands;
Then, clamoring, dives into the stars.
6. The Tarbolton Lasses
© Robert Burns
IF ye gae up to yon hill-tap,
Yell there see bonie Peggy;
She kens her father is a laird,
And she forsooths a leddy.
Contemplation
© Francis Thompson
This morning saw I, fled the shower,
The earth reclining in a lull of power:
The heavens, pursuing not their path,
Lay stretched out naked after bath,
Or so it seemed; field, water, tree, were still,
Nor was there any purpose on the calm-browed hill.
295. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock
© Robert Burns
My compliments to sister Beckie,
And eke the same to honest Lucky;
I wat she is a daintie chuckie,
As eer tread clay;
And gratefully, my gude auld cockie,
Im yours for aye.ROBERT BURNS.
South Carolina To The States Of The North
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I LIFT these hands with iron fetters banded:
Beneath the scornful sunlight and cold stars
I rear my once imperial forehead branded
By alien shame's immedicable scars;
465. SongIt was a for our rightfu King
© Robert Burns
IT was a for our rightfu King
We left fair Scotlands strand;
It was a for our rightfu King
We eer saw Irish land, my dear,
We eer saw Irish land.
The Father's Worshippers
© George MacDonald
'Tis we, not in thine arms, who weep and pray;
The children in thy bosom laugh and play.
313. Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots
© Robert Burns
NOW Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o daisies white
Out oer the grassy lea;
