All Poems

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Order by :

A. W. in commendations of this discourse

© Roger Cotton

Let worldly wisedome stande a part,

let policie giue place:

sisters

© Paul Celan

for elaine philip on her birthday

me and you be sisters.

Once as I travelled through a quiet evening,
I saw a pool, jet-black and mirror-still.
Beyond, the slender paperbarks stood crowding;
each on its own white image looked its fill,
and nothing moved but thirty egrets wading -
thirty egrets in a quiet evening.

The Dream of a Lacquer Box

© Kimiko Hahn

I wish I knew the contents and I wish the contents

Japanese —

Ever After

© Joyce Sutphen

What am I to you now that you are no

longer what you used to be to me?

Sonnet. "Spirit of all sweet sounds! who in mid air"

© Frances Anne Kemble

Spirit of all sweet sounds! who in mid air

Sittest enthroned, vouchsafe to hear my prayer!

When I am Gone

© Sheldon Allan Silverstein

When I am gone what will you do?
Who will write and draw for you?
Someone smarter—someone new?
Someone better—maybe YOU!

Lisy's Parting With Her Cat

© James Thomson

The dreadful hour with leaden pace approached,

Lashed fiercely on by unrelenting fate,

from A Passage to India

© Walt Whitman

Passage to India!
Lo, soul! seest thou not God’s purpose from the first?
The earth to be spann’d, connected by network,
The races, neighbors, to marry and be given in marriage,
The oceans to be cross’d, the distant brought near,
The lands to be welded together.

The Mariner's Cave

© Jean Ingelow

Once on a time there walked a mariner,
That had been shipwrecked;-on a lonely shore,
And the green water made a restless stir,
And a great flock of mews sped on before.
He had nor food nor shelter, for the tide
Rose on the one, and cliffs on the other side.

Limerick: There Once Was a Girl of Lahore

© William Cosmo Monkhouse

There once was a girl of Lahore,
The same shape behind as before;
As no one knew where
To offer a chair,
She had to sit down on the floor.

Here let us live and spend away our lives

© William Ellery Channing

"Here let us live and spend away our lives,"

Said once Fortunio, "while below, absorbed,

from Odes: 36 ["See! Their verses are laid"]

© Ted Hughes

See! Their verses are laid

as mosaic gold to gold

The Magyar's New-Year-Eve

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

By Temèsvar I hear the clarions call:
The year dies. Let it die. It lived in vain.
Gun booms to gun along the looming wall,
Another year advances o'er the plain.
The Despot hails it from his bannered keep:
Ah, Tyrant, is it well to break a bondsman's sleep?

An Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland, Considered as the Subject of Poetry

Home, thou return'st from Thames, whose Naiads long

Have seen thee ling'ring, with a fond delay,

Preface

© Wilfred Owen

This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak

of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory, honour,

from The Shepheardes Calender: April

THENOT & HOBBINOLL
Tell me good Hobbinoll, what garres thee greete?
What? hath some Wolfe thy tender Lambes ytorne?
Or is thy Bagpype broke, that soundes so sweete?
Or art thou of thy loved lasse forlorne?

Inscription

_For Graves at Pea Ridge, Arkansas_

Let none misgive we died amiss

More Than Enough

© Marge Piercy

The first lily of June opens its red mouth.
All over the sand road where we walk
multiflora rose climbs trees cascading
white or pink blossoms, simple, intense
the scene drifting like colored mist.

Cyprus Brig

© Anonymous

Poor Tom Brown from Nottingham, Jack Williams and poor Joe
They were three gallant poacher boys their country well does know
And by the laws of the Game Act that you may understand
Were fourteen years transported boys unto Van Diemen's Land