All Poems
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After Reading Trollope's History Of Florence
© Eugene Field
My books are on their shelves again
And clouds lie low with mist and rain.
Afar the Arno murmurs low
The tale of fields of melting snow.
List to the bells of times agone
The while I wait me for the dawn.
The Kingfisher
© Amy Clampitt
In a year the nightingales were said to be so loud
they drowned out slumber, and peafowl strolled screaming
beside the ruined nunnery, through the long evening
of a dazzled pub crawl, the halcyon color, portholed
by those eye-spots’ stunning tapestry, unsettled
the pastoral nightfall with amazements opening.
To buy a flower
© Emily Dickinson
Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower,
But I could never sell
If you would like to borrow,
Until the Daffodil
Sonnet 35: No more be grieved at that which thou hast done
© William Shakespeare
No more be grieved at that which thou hast done,
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud,
Hot Sun, Cool Fire
© George Peele
Hot sun, cool fire, tempered with sweet air,
Black shade, fair nurse, shadow my white hair.
Green Leaves And Sere
© Mathilde Blind
Three tall poplars beside the pool
Shiver and moan in the gusty blast,
The carded clouds are blown like wool,
And the yellowing leaves fly thick and fast.
Psalm 84
© Mary Sidney Herbert
How lovely is thy dwelling,
Great god, to whom all greatness is belonging!
An Ode On The Return Of The Troops
© Confucius
Forth from the city in our cars we drove,
Until we halted at the pasture ground.
First Name Friends
© Edgar Albert Guest
Though some may yearn for titles great, and seek the frills of fame,
I do not care to have an extra handle to my name.
I am not hungry for the pomp of life's high dignities,
I do not sigh to sit among the honored LL. D.'s.
I shall be satisfied if I can be unto the end,
To those I know and live with here, a simple, first-name friend.
The Bath
© Gary Snyder
Fire inside and boiling water on the stove
We sigh and slide ourselves down from the benches
wrap the babies, step outside,
The Eagle That Is Forgotten
© Roald Dahl
(John P. Altgeld, Governor of Illinois and my next-door neighbor, 1893-1897. Born December 30, 1847; died March 12, 1902.)
Sleep softly . . . eagle forgotten . . . under the stone.
Time has its way with you there, and the clay has its own.
Silence again
© Helen Hunt Jackson
Silence again. The glorious symphony
Hath need of pause and interval of peace.
The Good Old Concertina
© Henry Lawson
TWAS merry when the hut was full
Of jolly girls and fellows.
The Apple Boughs
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Round apples, burning upon the apple boughs,
As the evening flush withdraws,
Perfect and satiate, earth's completed vows,
In a stillness nothing flaws,
To the King on his Navy
© Edmund Waller
The world’s restorer once could not endure,
That finish’d Babel should those men secure,
Whose pride design’d that fabric to have stood
Above the reach of any second flood:
To thee His chosen, more indulgent, He
Dares trust such power with so much piety.
Die Drei Reiche Der Natur
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Ich trink, und trinkend faellt mir bei,
Warum Naturreich dreifach sei.
