All Poems

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Each Day

© Pierre Reverdy

Each day as dawn approaches,

the King sits in majesty

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A Pindaric Ode

© Benjamin Jonson

THE TURN

  Brave infant of Saguntum, clear

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Danse Macabre

© Sylvia Plath

Down among strict roots and rocks,
eclipsed beneath blind lid of land
goes the grass-embroidered box.

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Address to Venus

© Lucretius

Delight of Human kind, and Gods above;

Parent of Rome; Propitious Queen of Love;

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A Mountain Fantasy

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

CLOSE to each mountain's towering peak
A white cloud leans its tearful cheek,
Till all its soul of mystic pain
Dissolves in slow, soft, vaporous rain.

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Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802

© André Breton

Earth has not anything to show more fair:

Dull would he be of soul who could pass by

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A Prayer for the Past: Now far from my old northern land,

© George MacDonald

Now far from my old northern land,
I live where gentle winters pass;
Where green seas lave a wealthy strand,
And unsown is the grass;

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Acon and Rhodope; or, Inconstancy

© Heather Fuller

 First of those
Who visited upon this solemn day
The Hamadryad’s oak, were Rhodope
And Acon; of one age, one hope, one trust.
Graceful was she as was the nymph whose fate
She sorrowed for: he slender, pale, and first

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The Chosen

© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

CALLED to a way too high for me, I lean
Out from my narrow window o'er the street,
and know the fields I cannot see are green,
And guess the songs I cannot hear are sweet.

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Ode

© David Lehman

People in the middle ages didn't think they were living


Between two more important and enlightened eras;

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My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun

© Emily Dickinson

My Life had stood-a Loaded Gun-
In Corners-till a Day
The Owner passed-identified-
And carried Me away-

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In The Garden II: Visions

© Edward Dowden

HERE I am slave of visions. When noon heat

Strikes the red walls, and their environ'd air

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Thin

© Kay Ryan

How anything 

is known 

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A Broken Prayer

© George MacDonald

I am a denseness 'twixt me and the light;
1 cannot round myself; my purest thought,
Ere it is thought, hath caught the taint of earth,
And mocked me with hard thoughts beyond my will.

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An Elegy upon the Death of the Dean of Paul's, Dr. John Donne

© Thomas Carew

Can we not force from widow'd poetry,

Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegy

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Lament

© Georg Trakl

Sleep and death, the dusky eagles

Around this head swoop all night long;

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when you have forgotten Sunday: the love story

© Gwendolyn Brooks

—And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,

And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday—

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Flower-De-Luce: Christmas Bells

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

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Chain of Women

© Annie Finch

These are the seasons Persephone promised
as she turned on her heel—
the ones that darken, till green no longer
bandages what I feel.

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The Bursting of the Boom

© Henry Lawson

The captain’s easy-going when Fremantle comes in sight;
He can’t say when you’ll get ashore—perhaps tomorrow night;
Your coins are few, the charges high; you must not linger here—
You’ll get your boxes from the hold when she’s ‘longside the pier.’
The launch will foul the gangway, and the trembling bulwarks loom
Above a fleet of harbour craft—at the Bursting of the Boom.