All Poems
/ page 1699 of 3210 /A Map to the Next World
© Joy Harjo
for Desiray Kierra Chee
In the last days of the fourth world I wished to make a map for
those who would climb through the hole in the sky.
The River and the Hill
© Henry Kendall
And they shook their sweetness out in their sleep
On the brink of that beautiful stream,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 04 - Formation Of The World
© Lucretius
But in what modes that conflux of first-stuff
Did found the multitudinous universe
O Tibbie, I Hae Seen The Day
© Robert Burns
Choir. - O Tibbie, I hae seen the day,
Ye wadna been sae shy;
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But, trowth, I care na by.
I’m Fond of Frogs
© Jack Prelutsky
I’m fond of frogs, and every day
I treat them with affection.
I join them at the FROG CAFE—
We love the Croaking Section.
Last Post
© William Ernest Henley
THE day's high work is over and done,
And these no more will need the sun:
Cage,
© Michael Donaghy
This poem originally appeared in the June 1990 issue of Poetry. See it in its original context.
To a Wren on Calvary
© Larry Levis
And all later luxuries—the half-dressed neighbor couple
Shouting insults at each other just beyond
Her bra on a cluttered windowsill, then ceasing it when
A door was slammed to emphasize, like trouble,
A Sweet Contention Between Love, His Mistress, And Beauty
© Nicholas Breton
Love and my mistress were at strife
Who had the greatest power on me:
Betwixt them both, oh, what a life!
Nay, what a death is this to be!
Sonnet XVIII. To The Autumnal Moon
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Mild Splendor of the various-vested Night!
Mother of wildly-working visions! hail!
I watch thy gliding, while with watery light
Thy weak eye glimmers through a fleecy veil;
A Dream-Song
© George MacDonald
The stars are spinning their threads,
And the clouds are the dust that flies,
And the suns are weaving them up
For the day when the sleepers arise.
Sonnet XII: "When I do count the clock that tells the time"
© William Shakespeare
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
TO ONE WHO WOULD ``REMAIN FRIENDS''
What is this prate of friendship? Kings discrowned
Go forth, not citizens but outlawed men.
If love has ceased to give a loyal sound,
(O you mad, you superbly drunk!...)
© Anselm Hollo
I have wasted my days and nights in the company of steady wise neighbors.
Much knowing has turned my hair grey, and much watching has made my sight dim.
For years I have gathered and heaped all scraps and fragments of things;
Crush them and dance upon them, and scatter them all to the winds!
For I know tis the height of wisdom to be drunken and go to the dogs.
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 22
© Alfred Tennyson
The path by which we twain did go,
Which led by tracts that pleased us well,
Thro' four sweet years arose and fell,
From flower to flower, from snow to snow: