All Poems
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"How can I keep my maidenhead"
© Robert Burns
How can I keep my maidenhead,
My maidenhead, my maidenhead;
How can I keep my maidenhead,
Among sae mony men, O.
An Excelente Balade of Charitie
© Thomas Chatterton
In Virgynë the sweltrie sun gan sheene,
And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie;
Blind Joy
© Daniel Nester
Crude seeing’s all our joy: could we discern
The cold dark infinite vast where atoms burn
—Lone suns—in flesh, our treasure and our play,
Who’d dare to breathe this fern-thick bird-rich day?
The Camp Of Souls
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
My white canoe, like the silvery air
O'er the River of Death that darkly rolls
When the moons of the world are round and fair,
I paddle back from the "Camp of Souls."
Sarah Byng, Who Could Not Read and Was Tossed into a Thorny Hedge by a Bull
© Hilaire Belloc
Some years ago you heard me sing
My doubts on Alexander Byng.
A quoi songeaient les deux cavaliers ...
© Victor Marie Hugo
La nuit était fort noire et la forêt très-sombre.
Hermann à mes côtés me paraissait une ombre.
Nos chevaux galopaient. A la garde de Dieu !
Les nuages du ciel ressemblaient à des marbres.
Les étoiles volaient dans les branches des arbres
Comme un essaim d'oiseaux de feu.
Year’s End
© Ellen Bryant Voigt
The fingers lie in the lap,
separate, lonely, as in the field
the separate blades of grass
shrivel or grow tall.
Noisy Noisy
© Jack Prelutsky
It's noisy, noisy overhead,
the birds are winging south,
and every bird is opening
a noisy, noisy mouth.
On Teaching the Young
© Yvor Winters
The young are quick of speech.
Grown middle-aged, I teach
Corrosion and distrust,
Exacting what I must.
Empty Pitchforks
© Thomas Lux
“There was poverty before money.”
There was debtors’ prison before inmates,
there was hunger prefossil,
In The Orchard
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
LEAVE go my hands, let me catch breath and see;
Let the dew-fall drench either side of me;
Clear apple-leaves are soft upon that moon
Seen sidelong like a blossom in the tree;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Little Gray Songs from St. Josephs
© Grace Fallow Norton
I
WITH cassock black, baret and book,
Father Saran goes by;
I think he goes to say a prayer
For one who has to die.
Testimonial
© Rita Dove
Back when the earth was new
and heaven just a whisper,
back when the names of things
hadn't had time to stick;
To Mrs. Anne Donnellan, With The Fourth Essay On Man
© Mary Barber
Dear Philomela, oft you condescend,
With Notes seraphic, to transport your Friend:
Then in Return, let Verse your Soul rejoice,
Wise, as your Converse, rapt'rous, as your Voice.
Totem
© Eamon Grennan
All Souls’ over, the roast seeds eaten, I set
on a backporch post our sculpted pumpkin
Magna Charta
© Marriott Edgar
I'll tell of the Magna Charter
As were signed at the Barons' command
On Runningmead Island in t' middle of t' Thames
By King John, as were known as "Lack Land."
A Psalm of Freudian Life
© Edwin Morgan
Tell me not in mormonful numbers
“Life is but an empty dream!”
To a student of the slumbers
Things are never what they seem.
The Enemies
© Elizabeth Jennings
Last night they came across the river and
Entered the city. Women were awake
With lights and food. They entertained the band,
Not asking what the men had come to take
Or what strange tongue they spoke
Or why they came so suddenly through the land.
Under the Greenwood Tree
© William Shakespeare
Vnder the greene wood tree,
who loues to lye with mee,
