All Poems
/ page 1725 of 3210 /
History
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Time has stored all, but keeps his chronicle
In secret, beyond all our probe or gauge.
There flows the human story, vast and full;
And here a muddy trickle smears the page.
What My Father Left Behind
© Georg Trakl
Jam jar of cigarette ends and ashes on his workbench,
hammer he nailed our address to a stump with,
balsa wood steamship, half-finished—
Medea in Athens
© Augusta Davies Webster
Dimly I recall
some prophecy a god breathed by my mouth.
It could not err. What was it? For I think;-
it told his death¹.
The Fascination of What’s Difficult
© William Butler Yeats
The fascination of what's difficult
Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent
Ask What I Shall Give Thee (I)
© John Newton
Come, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He Himself has bid thee pray,
Therefore will not say thee nay.
Enigma with Flower
© Pablo Neruda
Victory. It has come late, I had not learnt
how to arrive, like the lily, at will,
the white figure, that pierces
the motionless eternity of earth,
Emergency Haying
© Hayden Carruth
Coming home with the last load I ride standing
on the wagon tongue, behind the tractor
in hot exhaust, lank with sweat,
A Sonnet, To His Mother As A New Year's Gift From Cambridge
© George Herbert
My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee,
Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn,
from Georgics, III
© Virgil
Thus every Creature, and of every Kind,
The secret Joys of sweet Coition find:
Dinner In A Quick Lunch Room
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Over the salad let the woodwinds moan;
Then the green silence of many watercresses;
Dessert, a balalaika, strummed alone;
Coffee, a slow, low singing no passion stresses;
Such are my thoughts as - clang! crash! bang! - I brood
And gorge the sticky mess these fools call food!
The Mountain Cemetery
© Edgar Bowers
With their harsh leaves old rhododendrons fill
The crevices in grave plots’ broken stones.
The bees renew the blossoms they destroy,
While in the burning air the pines rise still,
Commemorating long forgotten biers.
Their roots replace the semblance of these bones.
The Dispossessed
© Sylvia Plath
The enormous mortgage must be paid somehow,
so if you can dream up any saving plan
tell me quick, darling, tell me now.
Our Sailor
© John Jay Chapman
OH yes, he came again! But 'twas not he.
A youth no longer ours, nay, taller, older;
Decline and Fall
© Daniel Nester
Cornice rose in ranges, rose so high
It saw no sky, that forum, but noon sky.
Marble shone like shallows; columns too
Streamed with cool light as rocks in breakers do.
Trilogy Of Passion 03 Atonement
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Eternal beauty has its fruit to bear;
The eye grows moist, in yearnings blest reveres
The godlike worth of music as of tears.
The Singer
© James Whitcomb Riley
While with Ambition's hectic flame
He wastes the midnight oil,
And dreams, high-throned on heights of fame,
To rest him from his toil,--
