All Poems

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The Sultana's Remonstrance

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

IT suits thee well to weep,
As thou lookest on the fair land,
Whose sceptre thou hast held
With less than woman's hand.

The Man Splitting Wood in the Daybreak

© Washington Allston

The man splitting wood in the daybreak

looks strong, as though, if one weakened,

from The Task, Book II: The Time-Piece

© William Cowper

(excerpt)

England, with all thy faults, I love thee still

Marlowe

© John Le Gay Brereton

The spell of Shakespeare fills the heart
With earthly music loud and low;
But Marlowe drives the clouds apart,
And through their thundering rifts we go.

Cape Cod

© George Santayana

The low sandy beach and the thin scrub pine,
The wide reach of bay and the long sky line,
O, I am sick for home!

No Time

© Billy Collins

In a rush this weekday morning,
I tap the horn as I speed past the cemetery
where my parents are buried
side by side beneath a slab of smooth granite.

Thy Brother's Blood

© Jones Very

I have no Brother,they who meet me now

Offer a hand with their own wills defiled,

Minuscule Things

© William Matthews

There’s a crack in this glass so fine we can’t see it,
and in the blue eye of the candleflame’s needle
there’s a dark fleck, a speck of imperfection

Jabberwocky

© Lewis Carroll

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

New England Cocky

© Anonymous

"To Mary I give my pet kangaroo,
"May it prove to turn out a great blessing, too;
"To Michael I leave the old cockatoo,
"And to Bridget I'll give the piebald emu.

The Caucas lies before my feet! I stand where
Glaciers gleam, beside a precipice rock-ribbed;
An eagle that has soared from off some distant cliff,
Lawless as I, sweeps through the radiant air!
Here I see streams at their sources up-welling,
The grim avalanches unrolling and swelling!

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, (340)

© Emily Dickinson

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through -

Act III, Sc. 2?

© Jorie Graham

Look she said this is not the distance

we wanted to stay at—We wanted to get

The Ronalds Of The Bennals

© Robert Burns

In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,
And proper young lasses and a', man;
But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals,
They carry the gree frae them a', man.

“oh antic God”

© Paul Celan

I can barely recall her song
the scent of her hands
though her wild hair scratches my dreams
at night. return to me, oh Lord of then
and now, my mother’s calling,
her young voice humming my name.

A Grave By The Sea

No white cloud sails the lonely sky,

Thro the gaunt trees no breezes sigh,

Sonnet LXVI: Tir'd with all these, for Restful Death

Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry,

As, to behold desert a beggar born,

The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07:

© Conrad Aiken

Study them . . . you will see there, in the porcelain,
If you stare hard enough, a sort of swimming
Of lights and shadows, ghosts within a crystal
My brain unfolding! There you'll see me sitting
Day after day, close to a certain window,
Looking down, sometimes, to see the people . . .