All Poems
/ page 1791 of 3210 /The Milkmaids Epithalamium
© Thomas Randolph
Joy to the bridegroom and the bride
That lie by one anothers side!
O fie upon the virgin beds,
No loss is gain but maidenheads.
Love quickly send the time may be
When I shall deal my rosemary!
Riddles
© William Barnes
A. A plague! theäse cow wont stand a bit,
Noo sooner do she zee me zit
Ageän her, than she's in a trot,
A-runnèn to zome other spot.
Red Stains
© Allen Tate
In a pyloned desert where the scorpion reigns
My love and I plucked poppies breathing tales
To A Lady Who Was Libell'd.
© Mary Barber
So are you sully'd for a Season,
Till Rage recoils, and yields to Reason:
Then turns the Tide--your Credit clears,
And all your real Worth appears.
Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home,
A heap o’ sun an’ shadder, an’ ye sometimes have t’ roam
Conscription Camp
© Ishmael Reed
Your landscape sickens with a dry disease
Even in May, Virginia, and your sweet pines
Like Frenchmen runted in a hundred wars
Are of a child’s height in these battlefields.
The Weepen Leady
© William Barnes
When, leäte o' nights, above the green
By thik wold house, the moon do sheen,
Answered
© Madison Julius Cawein
Do you remember how that night drew on?
That night of sorrow, when the stars looked wan
Advent
© Donald Hall
When I see the cradle rocking
What is it that I see?
I see a rood on the hilltop
Of Calvary.
Romance
© François Coppée
Quand vous me montrez une rose
Qui s'épanouit sous l'azur,
Pourquoi suis-je alors plus morose?
Quand vous me montrez une rose,
C'est que je pense à son front pur.
No Classes!
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
No classes here! Why, that is idle talk.
The village beau sneers at the country boor;
The importuning mendicants who walk
Our cites streets despise the parish poor.
When I Am Only I
© Robert Laurence Binyon
When I am only I,
The secret battle--ground
Of world and will, wherein
Self is so strictly bound,
In The Gardens Of Shushan
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
BE pitiful ! Her lips have touched this cool
Clear stream that sets the long green leaves astir.
The very doves that dream beside the pool
Sang their soft notes to her.
The Japanese Fisherman
© Nazim Hikmet
A young Japanese fisherman was killed
by a cloud at sea.
I heard this song from his friends,
one lurid yellow evening on the Pacific.
Of Love To God
© John Bunyan
When I do this begin to apprehend,
My heart, my soul, and mind, begins to bend
A Shropshire Lad XXXV: On the idle hill of summer
© Alfred Edward Housman
On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams.