All Poems
/ page 1408 of 3210 /
Sonnet XXVIII
© William Shakespeare
How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debarr'd the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night, and night by day, oppress'd?
UndergroundA Fantasy
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
MAJESTIC dreams of heavenly calms,
Bright visions of unfading palms,
Wherewith the brows of saints are crowned,--
Sonnet XXVII
© William Shakespeare
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
Sonnet XXVI
© William Shakespeare
Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
To thee I send this written embassage,
To witness duty, not to show my wit:
A Song Of "Twenty-Nine"
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE summer dawn is breaking
On Auburn's tangled bowers,
Wordsworth
© Charles Harpur
With what a plenitude of pure delight
He triumphs on the mountains cloudy height,
With what a gleeful harmony of joy
He wanders down the vale as happy as a boy!
Sonnet XXIX
© William Shakespeare
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deal heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Sonnet XXIV
© William Shakespeare
Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is the painter's art.
Worthy Art Thou, Returning Home
© Walther von der Vogelweide
Worthy art thou, returning home, the bell
For thee should ring, and crowds come gathering round
Sonnet XXIII
© William Shakespeare
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
The Comrade
© Edith Wharton
And I have climbed with you by hidden ways
To meet the dews of morning, and have seen
The shy gods like retreating shadows fade,
Or on the thymy reaches have surprised
Old Chiron sleeping, and have waked him not . . .
Sonnet XXII
© William Shakespeare
My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
With Esther
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
HE who has once been happy is for aye
Out of destruction's reach. His fortune then
Sonnet XXI
© William Shakespeare
So is it not with me as with that Muse
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse
On the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, 1770
© Phillis Wheatley
Great Countess, we Americans revere
Thy name, and mingle in thy grief sincere;
New England deeply feels, the Orphans mourn,
Their more than father will no more return.
Sonnet XX
© William Shakespeare
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
Mary
© Caroline Norton
YES, we were happy once, and care
My jocund heart could ne'er surprise;
My treasures were, her golden hair,
Her ruby lips, her brilliant eyes.
Fighting Hard
© Henry Lawson
Fighting hard for fair Victoria, and the mountain and the glen;
(And the Memory of Eurekathere were other tyrants then),
For the glorious Gippsland forests and the Worlds great Singing Star
For the irrigation channels where the cabbage gardens are
Fighting hard.
Sonnet XVIII
© William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
