All Poems

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The Caffer

© Thomas Pringle

Lo! where he crouches by the cleugh's dark side,

Eyeing the farmer's lowing herds afar;

I Come From There

© Mahmoud Darwish

I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,

Psalm Three

© Mahmoud Darwish

On the day when my words
were earth...
I was a friend to stalks of wheat.

To a Lady on Her Remarkable Preservation

© Phillis Wheatley

Though thou did'st hear the tempest from afar,
And felt'st the horrors of the wat'ry war,
To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore
Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar,

To A Lady On The Death Of The Three Relations

© Phillis Wheatley

WE trace the pow'r of Death from tomb to tomb,
And his are all the ages yet to come.
'Tis his to call the planets from on high,
To blacken Phoebus, and dissolve the sky;

Somebody Has To

© Sheldon Allan Silverstein

Somebody has to go polish the stars,
They're looking a little bit dull.
Somebody has to go polish the stars,

On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell

© Phillis Wheatley

Ere yet the morn its lovely blushes spread,
See Sewell number'd with the happy dead.
Hail, holy man, arriv'd th' immortal shore,
Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more.

Real Lessons

© Edgar Albert Guest

These are the lessons I would learn,

Not how to climb above all men,

The warmest blessings which a muse can give,
And when this transitory state is o'er,
When kingdoms fall, and fleeting Fame's no more,
May Amory triumph in immortal fame,
A nobler title, and superior name!

To His Honour the Lieutenant-Governor

© Phillis Wheatley

All-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow'r,
Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more!
Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly,
Forget their splendors, and submit to die!

A Rebus, By I. B.

© Phillis Wheatley

I.
A BIRD delicious to the taste,
On which an army once did feast,
Sent by an hand unseen;

To Captain H-----d, of the 65th Regiment

© Phillis Wheatley

Say, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight
The warrior's bosom in the fields of fight?
Lo! here the christian and the hero join
With mutual grace to form the man divine.

To a Gentleman on His Voyage to Great-Britain

© Phillis Wheatley

While others chant of gay Elysian scenes,
Of balmy zephyrs, and of flow'ry plains,
My song more happy speaks a greater name,
Feels higher motives and a nobler flame.

On The Death Of Dr. Samuel Marshall

© Phillis Wheatley

THROUGH thickest glooms look back, immortal
shade,
On that confusion which thy death has made:
Or from Olympus' height look down, and see

A Farewel To America to Mrs. S. W.

I.
ADIEU, New-England's smiling meads,
Adieu, the flow'ry plain:
I leave thine op'ning charms, O spring,
And tempt the roaring main.

On Recollection

MNEME begin. Inspire, ye sacred nine,
Your vent'rous Afric in her great design.
Mneme, immortal pow'r, I trace thy spring:
Assist my strains, while I thy glories sing:

Thoughts On The Works Of Providence

A R I S E, my soul, on wings enraptur'd, rise
To praise the monarch of the earth and skies,
Whose goodness and benificence appear
As round its centre moves the rolling year,

Niobe in Distress

Seven sprightly sons the royal bed adorn,
Seven daughters beauteous as the op'ning morn,
As when Aurora fills the ravish'd sight,
And decks the orient realms with rosy light
From their bright eyes the living splendors play,
Nor can beholders bear the flashing ray.

To The Honourable T. H. Esq; On the Death Of His Daughter

WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade
The hand of Death, and your dear daughter
laid
In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow,

On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age

FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light
Th' enraptur'd innocent has wing'd her flight;
On the kind bosom of eternal love
She finds unknown beatitude above.