All Poems
/ page 1810 of 3210 /A Scene At The Banks Of The Hudson
© William Cullen Bryant
Cool shades and dews are round my way,
And silence of the early day;
Precision German Craftsmanship
© Matthew Rohrer
It was a good day and I was about to do something important
and good, but then I unscrewed the pen I was using
The Wrens Nest
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
I TOOK the wren's nest;--
Heaven forgive me!
Its merry architects so small
Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
Becoming a Redwood
© Dana Gioia
Stand in a field long enough, and the sounds
start up again. The crickets, the invisible
toad who claims that change is possible,
The Hour of the Angel
© Rudyard Kipling
Sooner or late-in earnest or in jest-
(But the stakes are no jest) Ithuriel's Hour
Man in Space
© Billy Collins
All you have to do is listen to the way a man
sometimes talks to his wife at a table of people
and notice how intent he is on making his point
even though her lower lip is beginning to quiver,
Song #3.
© Robert Crawford
Love's but to be had this way:
Reverent you must be with her,
Letting your heart night and day
Dreamy in her beauty stir.
After Catullus and Horace
© Bernadette Mayer
only the manners of centuries ago can teach me
how to address you my lover as who you are
Information
© David Ignatow
This tree has two million and seventy-five thousand leaves.
Perhaps I missed a leaf or two but I do feel triumphant
Forehead of the Rose
© René Char
Despite the open window in the room of long absence, the odor of the rose is still linked with the
breath that was there. Once again we are without previous experience, newcomers, in love. The
rose! The field of its ways would dispel even the effrontery of death. No grating stands in the way.
Desire is alive, an ache in our vaporous foreheads.
Paradise Regain'd: Book III (1671)
© Patrick Kavanagh
SO spake the Son of God, and Satan stood
A while as mute confounded what to say,
The Recluse - Book First
© William Wordsworth
HOME AT GRASMERE
ONCE to the verge of yon steep barrier came
A roving school-boy; what the adventurer's age
Hath now escaped his memory--but the hour,
Creatures
© Billy Collins
Hamlet noticed them in the shapes of clouds,
but I saw them in the furniture of childhood,
creatures trapped under surfaces of wood,
Feeling the draft
© Richard Jones
We were young and it was an accomplishment
to have a body. No one said this. No one
Her Beautiful Eyes
© James Whitcomb Riley
O her beautiful eyes! they are as blue as the dew
On the violet's bloom when the morning is new,
And the light of their love is the gleam of the sun
O'er the meadows of Spring where the quick shadows run:
As the morn shirts the mists and the clouds from the skies--
So I stand in the dawn of her beautiful eyes.
His Example
© Edgar Albert Guest
There are little eyes upon you, and they're watching night and day;
There are little ears that quickly take in every word you say;
There are little hands all eager to do everything you do,
And a little boy that's dreaming of the day he'll be like you.
There's a certain Slant of light, (320)
© Emily Dickinson
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes