All Poems
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: VIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
It was a booth no larger than the rest,
No loftier fashioned and no more sublime,
As poor a shrine as ever youth possessed
In which to worship truth revealed in time.
164. SongA Bottle and Friend
© Robert Burns
HERES a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o care, man?
The Crown Of Life
© Edith Nesbit
THE days, the doubts, the dreams of pain
Are over, not to come again,
And from the menace of the night
Has dawned the day-star of delight:
My baby lies against me pressed--
Thus, Mother of God, are mothers blessed!
128. The Farewell
© Robert Burns
FAREWELL, old Scotias bleak domains,
Far dearer than the torrid plains,
Where rich ananas blow!
Farewell, a mothers blessing dear!
Sonnet XXXIX: Sleepless Dreams
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Girt in dark growths, yet glimmering with one star,
O night desirous as the nights of youth!
478. Epigram on a Suicide
© Robert Burns
EARTHD up, here lies an imp o hell,
Planted by Satans dibble;
Poor silly wretch, hes damned himsel,
To save the Lord the trouble.
328. Poem on Pastoral Poetry
© Robert Burns
Thy rural loves are Natures sel;
Nae bombast spates o nonsense swell;
Nae snap conceits, but that sweet spell
O witchin love,
That charm that can the strongest quell,
The sternest move.
The Princess's Finger-Nail: A Tale Of Nonsense Land
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
All through the Castle of High-bred Ease,
Where the chief employment was do-as-you-please,
352. The Song of Death
© Robert Burns
FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies,
Now gay with the broad setting sun;
Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties,
Our race of existence is run!
My Mother’s Pillow by Cecilia Woloch : American Life in Poetry #228 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laur
© Ted Kooser
I don’t often mention literary forms, but of this lovely poem by Cecilia Woloch I want to suggest that the form, a villanelle, which uses a pattern of repetition, adds to the enchantment I feel in reading it. It has a kind of layering, like memory itself. Woloch lives and teaches in southern California.
My Mother’s Pillow
234. A Mothers Lament for her Sons Death
© Robert Burns
FATE gave the word, the arrow sped,
And piercd my darlings heart;
And with him all the joys are fled
Life can to me impart.
Sonnet To The Moon
© Yvor Winters
Now every leaf, though colorless, burns bright
With disembodied and celestial light,
And drops without a movement or a sound
A pillar of darkness to the shifting ground.
John Anderson
© Robert Burns
John Anderson, my jo John,
When we were first acquent
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
Scots, Wha Hae Wi' Wallace Bled
© Robert Burns
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!
The End Of The World
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Even the silent lips and comforting calm face
I had no more; I took my place
386. The Rights of WomenSpoken by Miss Fontenelle
© Robert Burns
Now, thank our stars! those Gothic times are fled;
Now, well-bred menand you are all well-bred
Most justly think (and we are much the gainers)
Such conduct neither spirit, wit, nor manners.
China 1899
© Arthur Henry Adams
She lies, a grave disdain all her defence,
Too imperturbable for scorn. She hears
395. Sonnet on the Authors Birthday
© Robert Burns
SING on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough,
Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain,
See aged Winter, mid his surly reign,
At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow.
75. Halloween
© Robert Burns
UPON that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans 2 dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
