All Poems
/ page 1671 of 3210 /Danse Macabre
© Sylvia Plath
Down among strict roots and rocks,
eclipsed beneath blind lid of land
goes the grass-embroidered box.
Address to Venus
© Lucretius
Delight of Human kind, and Gods above;
Parent of Rome; Propitious Queen of Love;
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.
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
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;
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
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.
Ode
© David Lehman
People in the middle ages didn't think they were living
Between two more important and enlightened eras;
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-
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
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.
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
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—
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!
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.
The Bursting of the Boom
© Henry Lawson
The captains easy-going when Fremantle comes in sight;
He cant say when youll get ashoreperhaps tomorrow night;
Your coins are few, the charges high; you must not linger here
Youll get your boxes from the hold when shes longside the pier.
The launch will foul the gangway, and the trembling bulwarks loom
Above a fleet of harbour craftat the Bursting of the Boom.