All Poems

/ page 1752 of 3210 /

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In Memoriam A. H. H. 7

© Alfred Tennyson

Dark house, by which once more I stand

Here in the long unlovely street,

They are the last romantics, these candles:
Upside-down hearts of light tipping wax fingers,
And the fingers, taken in by their own haloes,
Grown milky, almost clear, like the bodies of saints.
It is touching, the way they'll ignore

The Foggy, Foggy Blue

© Delmore Schwartz

When I was a young man, I loved to write poems

And I called a spade a spade

Ballad of John Cable and Three Gentlemen

© William Stanley Merwin

He that had come that morning,
One after the other,
Over seven hills,
Each of a new color,

Love's Clock

© James Russell Lowell

'Bid me not stay!
Hear reason, pray!
'Tis striking six! Sure never day
Was short as this is!'

Love

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Haymaking

© Edward Thomas

Aftear night’s thunder far away had rolled

The fiery day had a kernel sweet of cold,

Song: I prithee spare me gentle boy

© Sir John Suckling

I prithee spare me gentle boy,
Press me no more for that slight toy,
That foolish trifle of an heart;
I swear it will not do its part,
Though thou dost thine, employst thy powr and art.

Sonnet 52: "So am I as the rich whose blessed key..."

© William Shakespeare

So am I as the rich whose blessed key,

Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,

Wait

© C. K. Williams

Chop, hack, slash; chop, hack, slash; cleaver, boning knife, ax—
not even the clumsiest clod of a butcher could do this so crudely,
time, as do you, dismember me, render me, leave me slop in a pail,
one part of my body a hundred years old, one not even there anymore,
another still riven with idiot vigor, voracious as the youth I was
for whom everything always was going too slowly, too slowly.

To Joanna

© William Wordsworth

AMID the smoke of cities did you pass

The time of early youth; and there you learned,

Middle-Aged Midwesterner at Waikiki Again

© John Logan

The surfers beautiful as men

can be

Bathsheba's Song

© George Peele

Hot sun, cool fire, tempered with sweet air,

Black shade, fair nurse, shadow my white hair.

Deola Thinking

© Cesare Pavese

Deola passes her mornings sitting in a cafe,

and nobody looks at her. Everyone’s rushing to work,

My Thoughts To-Night

I sit by the fire musing,

With sad and downcast eye,

Slow, Slow, Fresh Fount

Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears;

Yet slower, yet, O faintly, gentle springs!

Stray Birds 51 - 60

51
YOUR idol is shattered in the dust
to prove that God's dust is greater than
your idol.

Blue Monday

Blue Monday. Monday at 3:00 and
Monday at 5. Monday at 7:30 and
Monday at 10:00. Monday passed under the rippling
California fountain. Monday alone
a shark in the cold blue waters.