All Poems

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The Picture Book

© Robert Graves

When I was not quite five years old
I first saw the blue picture book,
And Fraulein Spitzenburger told
Stories that sent me hot and cold;
I loathed it, yet I had to look:
It was a German book.

Chamber Thicket

© Sharon Olds

As we sat at the feet of the string quartet,

in their living room, on a winter night,

"The Spacious Firmament"

© Joseph Addison

In Reason's Ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious Voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
The Hand that made us is Divine.

Made to Measure

© Stephen Edgar

Impossible to wield

The acreage of the fabric that unfolded,

Lectures to Women on Physical Science

© James Clerk Maxwell

PLACE. A small alcove with dark curtains.
The class consists of one member.
SUBJECT.Thomsons Mirror Galvanometer.

Sonnet XVII: My Poet, Thou Canst Touch

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes

God set between his After and Before,

Up Against It

© Eamon Grennan

It’s the way they cannot understand the window

they buzz and buzz against, the bees that take

Ode to Himself

© Benjamin Jonson

Come leave the loathéd stage,

And the more loathsome age,

The Bracelet of Grass

© William Vaughn Moody

The opal heart of afternoon

Was clouding on to throbs of storm,

Under the Dome

© Elise Paschen

At times they will fly under. The dome

contains jungles. Invent a sky under the dome.

Sonnet XLVIII. Gladstone.

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

FOR Peace, and all that follows in her path
Nor slighting honor and his country's fame,
He stood unmoved, and dared to face the blame
Of party-spirit and its turbid wrath.

Sonnet LIII: "What is your substance, whereof are you made"

© William Shakespeare

What is your substance, whereof are you made,

That millions of strange shadows on you tend?

I'd rather see a sermon than hear one any day;
I'd rather one should walk with me than merely tell the way.
The eye's a better pupil and more willing than the ear,
Fine counsel is confusing, but example's always clear;
And the best of all the preachers are the men who live their creeds,
For to see good put in action is what everybody needs.

Monet Refuses the Operation

© Paul Eluard

Doctor, you say there are no haloes

around the streetlights in Paris

To The Rev. William Cawthorne Unwin

Unwin, I should but ill repay
The kindness of a friend,
Whose worth deserves as warm a lay
As ever friendship penned,
Thy name omitted in a page
That would reclaim a vicious age.

More Sonnets At Christmas

© Allen Tate

Suppose I take an arrogant bomber, stroke
By stroke, up to the frazzled sun to hear
Sun-ghostlings whisper: Yes, the capital yoke—
Remove it and there’s not a ghost to fear
This crucial day, whose decapitate joke
Languidly winds into the inner ear.

Tonight, nothing is long enough—

time isn’?t.

He parts Himselflike Leaves

He parts Himselflike Leaves
And thenHe closes up
Then stands upon the Bonnet
Of Any Buttercup