All Poems
/ page 1662 of 3210 /Thro Grief And Thro Danger
© Thomas Moore
THRO grief and thro danger thy smile hath cheerd my way,
Till hope seemd to bud from each thorn that round me lay;
Baby Villon
© Philip Levine
He tells me in Bangkok he’s robbed
Because he’s white; in London because he’s black;
In Barcelona, Jew; in Paris, Arab:
Everywhere and at all times, and he fights back.
The Look
© Sara Teasdale
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Rendez-vous
© Charles Cros
Ma belle amie est morte,
Et voilà quon la porte
En terre, ce matin,
En souliers de satin.
Sonnet To George Keats: Written In Sickness
© John Keats
Brother belov'd if health shall smile again,
Upon this wasted form and fever'd cheek:
If e'er returning vigour bid these weak
And languid limbs their gladsome strength regain,
They are hostile nations
© Margaret Atwood
In view of the fading animals
the proliferation of sewers and fears
the sea clogging, the air
nearing extinction
from The Vanity of Human Wishes
© Henry James Pye
Yet still one genral cry the skies assails,
And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
Few know the toiling statesmans fear or care,
Th insidious rival and the gaping heir.
The Philosophic Pill
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I've wisdom from the East and from the West,
That's subject to no academic rule;
From 'Love And The Universe'
© Albert Durrant Watson
THE voiceless symphony of moor and highland,
The rainbow on the mist,
Sea Fever
© John Brooks Wheelwright
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio
© James Wright
In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.
Marsh Song -- At Sunset.
© Sidney Lanier
Over the monstrous shambling sea,
Over the Caliban sea,
Bright Ariel-cloud, thou lingerest:
Oh wait, oh wait, in the warm red West, --
Thy Prospero I'll be.
from The Bridge: The Tunnel
© Hart Crane
Or can’t you quite make up your mind to ride;
A walk is better underneath the L a brisk
Ten blocks or so before? But you find yourself
Preparing penguin flexions of the arms,—
As usual you will meet the scuttle yawn:
The subway yawns the quickest promise home.
Venus of the Louvre
© Emma Lazarus
Down the long hall she glistens like a star,
The foam-born mother of Love, transfixed to stone,
Two Robbers
© Francis William Bourdillon
When Death from some fair face
Is stealing life away,
All weep, save she, the grace
That earth shall lose today.