All Poems

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On The Return Of A Festival

© George Dyer

While War through kindred nations roams,
  With fiery eye and blood-stain'd spear,
And Pity, on the warrior's tombs,
  Hangs the pale wreath, and drops a tear,—
While thousands bleed,—while thousands die,
Let Britons heave the generous sigh.

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The Closet

© Bill Knott

(...after my Mother’s death)
Here not long enough after the hospital happened 
I find her closet lying empty and stop my play 
And go in and crane up at three blackwire hangers 
Which quiver, airy, released. They appear to enjoy

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Meary-Ann’s Child

© William Barnes

Meary-Ann wer alwone wi' her beäby in eärms,
  In her house wi' the trees over head,
  Vor her husban' wer out in the night an' the storms,
  In his business a-tweilèn vor bread;
  An' she, as the wind in the elems did roar,
  Did grievy vor Robert all night out o' door.

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Balade

© Sir Henry Newbolt

Nay--for Narcissus, in the forest pond
Seeing his image, made entreaty fond,
"Beloved, comfort on my longing pour":
So for a while he soothed his passion sore;
So cannot I, for all too far is she---
The lady who is queen and love to me.

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Sonnet CXI: O, for my Sake do you with Fortune Chide

© William Shakespeare

O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,


The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,

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The Old Byway

© Madison Julius Cawein

Its rotting fence one scarcely sees
Through sumac and wild blackberries,
Thick elder and the bramble-rose,
Big ox-eyed daisies where the bees
Hang droning in repose.

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Sonnet CXLVII: My love is a fever, longing still

© William Shakespeare

My love is a fever, longing still

For that which longer nurseth the disease,

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A Clear Midnight

© Walt Whitman

THIS is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou
  lovest best.
Night, sleep, death and the stars.

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Waiting

© William Ernest Henley

A square, squat room (a cellar on promotion),
Drab to the soul, drab to the very daylight;
Plasters astray in unnatural-looking tinware;
Scissors and lint and apothecary's jars.

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Friendship’s Mystery, To my Dearest Lucasia

© Katherine Philips

Come, my Lucasia, since we see
 That Miracles Mens faith do move,
By wonder and by prodigy
 To the dull angry world let’s prove
 There’s a Religion in our Love.

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Complaint of the Absence of Her Love Being Upon the Sea

© Henry Howard

O happy dames, that may embrace


 The fruit of your delight,

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Above Pate Valley

© Gary Snyder

We finished clearing the last 

Section of trail by noon,

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Concerning Jesus

© George MacDonald

I.

If thou hadst been a sculptor, what a race

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The Love Cook

© Ron Padgett

Let me cook you some dinner. 

Sit down and take off your shoes 

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St. Wagner’s Eve

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

THE hop—shop is shut up: the night doth wear.

Here, early, Collinson this evening fell

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From The Spanish Cancioneros

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

II.
Some day, some day
O troubled breast,
Shalt thou find rest.

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Queen-Anne’s Lace

© William Carlos Williams

Her body is not so white as

anemony petals nor so smooth—nor

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Kathin Hay Rahguzar

© Ahmad Faraz

کٹھِن ہے راہگزر، تھوڑی دور ساتھ چلو

بہت کڑا ہے سفر، تھوڑی دور ساتھ چلو

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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 16

© Alfred Tennyson

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
 I feel it, when I sorrow most;
 'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

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Mirror Image

© Samuel Menashe

Ribs ripple skin
Up to the nipples—
Noah, equipped, knew
Every one has two—
This ark I am in
Embarks my twin