All Poems
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A Poet To His Baby Son
© James Weldon Johnson
Tiny bit of humanity,
Blessed with your mothers face,
And cursed with your fathers mind.
To... On the Death of Her Sister
© Samuel Rogers
Ah! little thought she, when, with wild delight
By many a torrent's shining track she flew,
When mountain-glens and caverns full of night
O'er her young mind divine enchantment threw,
To a Deaf and Dumb Little Girl
© Victor Segalen
Like a loose island on the wide expanse,
Unconscious floating on the fickle sea,
Turning Forty
© Jonathan Galassi
The barroom mirror lit up with our wives
has faded to a loaded-to-the-gills
Japanese subcompact, little lives
asleep behind us, heading for the hills
Electrocuting an Elephant
© Sonia Sanchez
Her handlers, dressed in vests and flannel pants,
Step forward in the weak winter light
The Days Gone By
© James Whitcomb Riley
O the days gone by! O the days gone by!
The apples in the orchard, and the pathway through the rye;
The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail
As he piped across the meadows sweet as any nightingale;
When the bloom was on the clover, and the blue was in the sky,
And my happy heart brimmed over in the days gone by.
The Average Man
© Edgar Albert Guest
MINE is a song of the average man
Who has been on earth since the world began!
On Reading Crowds and Power
© Geoffrey Hill
1
Cloven, we are incorporate, our wounds
simple but mysterious. We have
some wherewithal to bide our time on earth.
A Glory Gone
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What is my thought of you, beloved one,
Now you have passed from me and gone your ways?
Glory is gone with you from stars and sun,
And all wise meaning from the nights and days.
Forever is composed of Nows (690)
© Emily Dickinson
Forever is composed of Nows
Tis not a different time
Except for Infiniteness
And Latitude of Home
The Salutation
© Thomas Traherne
These little limbs,
These eyes and hands which here I find,
These rosy cheeks wherewith my life begins,
Where have ye been? behind
What curtain were ye from me hid so long?
Where was, in what abyss, my speaking tongue?
Venus Verticordia (For a Picture)
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
SHE hath the apple in her hand for thee,
Yet almost in her heart would hold it back;
The Empty Glass
© Louise Gluck
I asked for much; I received much.
I asked for much; I received little, I received
next to nothing.
December
© Hilaire Belloc
For now December, full of agéd care,
Comes in upon the year and weakly grieves;
Mumbling his lost desires and his despair; .
And with mad trembling hand still interweaves,
The dank sear flower-stalks tangled in his hair,
While round about him whirl the rotten leaves.
Debtor’s Prison Road
© Heather McHugh
tick fitfully, they always have
appointments. Punctual, six-sharp,
they are David's; they have lodged in his
death tent, have stuck in his mud sleep. Bad luck
