All Poems
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174. The Bard at Inverary
© Robert Burns
WHOEER he be that sojourns here,
I pity much his case,
Unless he comes to wait upon
The Lord their God, His Grace.
A Mother In Egypt
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
"About midnight will I go out into the midst of Egypt: and all the firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh that sitteth upon the throne, even unto the firstborn of the maid-servant that is behind the mill."
11. SongHeres to thy health, my bonie lass
© Robert Burns
HERES to thy health, my bonie lass,
Gude nicht and joy be wi thee;
Ill come nae mair to thy bower-door,
To tell thee that I loe thee.
Buick
© Karl Shapiro
As a sloop with a sweep of immaculate wing on her delicate spine
And a keel as steel as a root that holds in the sea as she leans,
Leaning and laughing, my warm-hearted beauty, you ride, you ride,
You tack on the curves with parabola speed and a kiss of goodbye,
Like a thoroughbred sloop, my new high-spirited spirit, my kiss.
373. SongThe Slaves Lament
© Robert Burns
The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear,
In the lands of Virginia,ginia, O;
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary O:
499. SongA Mans a Man for a that
© Robert Burns
IS there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an a that;
The coward slave-we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a that!
An Impromptu - II
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AT THE WALCKER DINNER UPON THE
COMPLETION OF THE GREAT ORGAN
197. SongThe Banks of the Devon
© Robert Burns
HOW pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon,
With green spreading bushes and flowrs blooming fair!
But the boniest flowr on the banks of the Devon
Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr.
Faith
© Nikola Vaptsarov
Pray, how will you smash it?
With bullets?
No! That is useless!
Stop! It is not worth it!
100. Inscribed on a Work of Hannah Mores
© Robert Burns
THOU flattring mark of friendship kind,
Still may thy pages call to mind
The dear, the beauteous donor;
Tho sweetly female evry part,
A Little Grey Curl
© Louisa May Alcott
A little grey curl from my father's head
I find unburned on the hearth,
196. Epitaph for Mr. W. Cruickshank
© Robert Burns
HONEST 1 Will to Heavens away
And mony shall lament him;
His fauts they a in Latin lay,
In English nane eer kent them.
Love And Folly
© Charlotte Turner Smith
LOVE, who now deals to human hearts,
Such ill thrown, yet resistless darts,
167. Epitaph for Mr. William Michie, Schoolmaster
© Robert Burns
HERE lie Willie Michies banes;
O Satan, when ye tak him,
Gie him the schulin o your weans,
For clever deils hell mak them!
Darkness
© Aldous Huxley
My close-walled soul has never known
That innermost darkness, dazzling sight,
74. FragmentHer Flwoing Locks
© Robert Burns
HER flowing locks, the ravens wing,
Adown her neck and bosom hing;
How sweet unto that breast to cling,
And round that neck entwine her!
Howard At Atlanta
© John Greenleaf Whittier
RIGHT in the track where Sherman
Ploughed his red furrow,
Out of the narrow cabin,
Up from the cellar's burrow,
35. Epitaph on William Hood, Senior
© Robert Burns
HERE Souter Hood in death does sleep;
To hell if hes gane thither,
Satan, gie him thy gear to keep;
Hell haud it weel thegither.
On The Grave Of A Young Cavalry Officer Killed In The Valley Of Virginia
© Herman Melville
Beauty and youth, with manners sweet, and
friends--
Gold, yet a mind not unenriched had he
Whom here low violets veil from eyes.
But all these gifts transcended be:
His happier fortune in this mound you see.
321. SongCraigieburn Wood
© Robert Burns
SWEET closes the evning on Craigieburn Wood,
And blythely awaukens the morrow;
But the pride o the spring in the Craigieburn Wood
Can yield to me nothing but sorrow.
