All Poems
/ page 1732 of 3210 /
Bricks And Straw
© Franklin Pierce Adams
My desk is cleared of the litter of ages;
Before me glitter the fair white pages;
Verses On Rome
© Frances Anne Kemble
O Rome, tremendous! who, beholding thee,
Shall not forget the bitterest private grief
Troop Train
© Ishmael Reed
It stops the town we come through. Workers raise
Their oily arms in good salute and grin.
Letter Written on a Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound
© Anne Sexton
I am surprised to see
that the ocean is still going on.
The Chalk-Pit
© Edward Thomas
Is this the road that climbs above and bends
Round what was once a chalk-pit: now it is
Upon Nothing
© John Wilmot
Nothing! thou Elder Brother ev’n to Shade,
That hadst a Being ere the World was made,
Answer To Some Elegant Verses Sent By A Friend To The Author, Complaining That One Of His Descriptio
© George Gordon Byron
'But if any old lady, knight, priest or physician
Should condemn me for printing a second edition;
If good Madam Squintum my work should abuse,
May I venture to give her a smack of my muse?'~New Bath Guide.
Modern Love: XLVI
© George Meredith
At last we parley: we so strangely dumb
In such a close communion! It befell
To Oliver Wendell Holmes
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Among the thousands who with hail and cheer
Will welcome thy new year,
How few of all have passed, as thou and I,
So many milestones by!
Death
© Bill Knott
Going to sleep, I cross my hands on my chest.
They will place my hands like this.
It will look as though I am flying into myself.
The House of Life: 72. The Choice, II
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Though screen'd and hid, shall walk the daylight here.
And dost thou prate of all that man shall do?
Canst thou, who hast but plagues, presume to be
Glad in his gladness that comes after thee?
Will his strength slay thy worm in Hell? Go to:
Cover thy countenance, and watch, and fear.
Getting There
© Christopher Buckley
It comes to little now
who I forgive, mourn,
or thank. The dust shifts
and we are barely
suspended in the light.
Everyday Characters V - Portrait Of A Lady
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
IN THE EXHIBITION OP THE ROYAL
ACADEMY
A Man Young And Old: IX. The Secrets Of The Old
© William Butler Yeats
I have old women's secrets now
That had those of the young;
Madge tells me what I dared not think
When my blood was strong,
And what had drowned a lover once
Sounds like an old song.
[love is more thicker than forget]
© Edward Estlin Cummings
love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail
Pauline, A Fragment of a Question
© Robert Browning
And I can love nothing-and this dull truth
Has come the last: but sense supplies a love
Encircling me and mingling with my life.
