All Poems
/ page 1798 of 3210 /When Heaving On The Stormy Waters
© Fyodor Sologub
When, heaving on the stormy waters,
I felt my ship beneath to sink,
I prayed, "Oh, Father Satan, save me,
Forgive me at death's utter brink!
Villon
© Ted Hughes
He whom we anatomized
‘whose words we gathered as pleasant flowers
and thought on his wit and how neatly he described things’
speaks
to us, hatching marrow,
broody all night over the bones of a deadman.
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 99
© Alfred Tennyson
Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again,
So loud with voices of the birds,
So thick with lowings of the herds,
Day, when I lost the flower of men;
The American Way
© Gregory Corso
I am a great American
I am almost nationalistic about it!
I love America like a madness!
But I am afraid to return to America
I’m even afraid to go into the American Express—
The Child on the Cliffs
© Edward Thomas
Mother, the root of this little yellow flower
Among the stones has the taste of quinine.
Things are strange to-day on the cliff. The sun shines so bright,
And the grasshopper works at his sewing-machine
So hard. Here’s one on my hand, mother, look;
I lie so still. There’s one on your book.
On Sir Thomas Savill Dying Of The Small Pox
© William Strode
Take, greedy death, a body here entomd
That by a thousand stroakes was made one wound,
For Emily Wilson
© Archie Randolph Ammons
Such a long time as the wave idling gathers
lofts and presses forward into the curvature
of the height before one realizes that the
Amor Mundi
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
“Oh where are you going with your love-locks flowing
On the west wind blowing along this valley track?”
“The downhill path is easy, come with me an it please ye,
We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.”
Bible Defense of Slavery
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Take sackcloth of the darkest dye,
And shroud the pulpits round!
Servants of Him that cannot lie,
Sit mourning on the ground.
Aos capitulares do seu tempo
© Gregorio de Matos Guerra
Anossa Sé da Bahia,
com ser um mapa de festas,
William Blake
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THIS is the place. Even here the dauntless soul,
The unflinching hand, wrought on; till in that nook,
Farewell to Matilda
© Thomas Love Peacock
Oui, pour jamais
Chassons l’image
De la volage
Que j’adorais. PARNY.
O Jours De Mon Printemps
© André Marie de Chénier
O jours de mon printemps, jours couronnés de rose,
A votre fuite en vain un long regret s'oppose,
Upon Julias Breasts
© Robert Herrick
Display thy breasts, my Julia, there let me
Behold that circummortal purity;
Between whose glories, there my lips Ill lay,
Ravished in that fair Via Lactea.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 02 - Nature And Composition Of The Mind
© Lucretius
First, then, I say, the mind which oft we call
The intellect, wherein is seated life's
Love Is A Sickness Full of Woes
© Samuel Daniel
Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
November
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Together we laughed and talked in the warm--lit room:
Out now, alone I come
Into the street, in the fall of the early night.
Shadowy skies, with a pale uncertain gloom,