All Poems

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A Baroque Wall-Fountain in the Villa Sciarra

© Lola Ridge

for Dore and Adja
Under the bronze crown
Too big for the head of the stone cherub whose feet 
 A serpent has begun to eat,
Sweet water brims a cockle and braids down

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Love is the Water of Life

© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

Everything other than love for the most beautiful God
though it be sugar- eating.  
What is agony of the spirit?  
To advance toward death without seizing  
hold of the Water of Life.

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The Labour Agitator

© Henry Lawson

LET the liar call me liar,

  And the robber call me thief.

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Looking into History

© Lola Ridge

Five soldiers fixed by Mathew Brady’s eye 
Stand in a land subdued beyond belief. 
Belief might lend them life again. I try
Like orphaned Hamlet working up his grief

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To the Right Honorable William, Earl of Dartmouth

© Phillis Wheatley

Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,

Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:

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Spring Torrents

© Sara Teasdale

WILL it always be like this until I am dead,
Every spring must I bear it all again
With the first red haze of the budding maple boughs,
And the first sweet-smelling rain?

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The Bear Hunt

© Abraham Lincoln

A wild-bear chace, didst never see?
 Then hast thou lived in vain.
Thy richest bump of glorious glee,
 Lies desert in thy brain.

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A Carafe, that is a Blind Glass

© Gertrude Stein

A kind in glass and a cousin, a spectacle and nothing strange a single hurt color and an arrangement in a system to pointing

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A Wreath Of Sonnets (4/14)

© France Preseren

These tear-stained flowers of a poet's mind,
Culled from my bosom, lay it wholly bare;
My heart's a garden: Love is sowing there
Sad elegies each with my longing signed.

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Night Singing

© William Stanley Merwin

Long after Ovid’s story of Philomela

  has gone out of fashion and after the testimonials

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Easter Even

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

There is nothing more that they can do
 For all their rage and boast;
Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew,
 Herod with his host,

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I Live Up Here

© William Stanley Merwin

I live up here


And a little bit to the left

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The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act I

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

KING.  Yes, from this rocky height,
Nigh to the sun, that with one starry light
Its rugged brow doth crown,
Headlong among the salt waves leaping down
Let him descend who so much pain perceives;
There let him raging die who raging lives.

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The Shadow Of Night

© George Chapman



 Fall, Hercules, from heaven, in tempests hurl'd,

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Indian River

© Edwin Muir

The trade-wind jingles the rings in the nets around the racks

  by the docks on Indian River.

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Eliza Harris

© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Like a fawn from the arrow, startled and wild,
A woman swept by us, bearing a child;
In her eye was the night of a settled despair,
And her brow was o’ershaded with anguish and care.

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Pictures From Theocritus

© William Lisle Bowles

  Goat-herd, how sweet above the lucid spring
  The high pines wave with breezy murmuring!
  So sweet thy song, whose music might succeed
  To the wild melodies of Pan's own reed.

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Interview by a Guggenheim Recipient

© Charles Bukowski

this South American up here on a Gugg

walked in with his whore

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Erskine

© John Le Gay Brereton

  A singing voice is in my dream
  The voice of Erskine, on his boulders,
  Babbling and shouting till he shoulders
  Stoutly against the heavier stream.