All Poems
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A Patriotic Creed
© Edgar Albert Guest
To serve my country day by day
At any humble post I may;
To honor and respect her flag,
To live the traits of which I brag;
To be American in deed
As well as in my printed creed.
The Life of Earth
© Robert Fuller Murray
The life of earth, how full of pain,
Which greets us on our day of birth,
Nor leaves us while we yet retain
The life of earth.
The Hunter
© Ellis Parker Butler
A full-fledged gun cannot endure
The trifling of an amateur;
Poor marksmanship its temper spoils
And this is why the gun recoils.
Brothers-American Drama
© James Weldon Johnson
See! There he stands; not brave, but with an air
Of sullen stupor. Mark him well! Is he
Not more like brute than man? Look in his eye!
No light is there; none, save the glint that shines
In the now glaring, and now shifting orbs
Of some wild animal caught in the hunter’s trap.
Sapphics
© Archibald Lampman
Clothed in splendour, beautifully sad and silent,
Comes the autumn over the woods and highlands,
Golden, rose-red, full of divine remembrance,
Full of foreboding.
Paradise Lost: Book IX (1674)
© Patrick Kavanagh
To whom the Virgin Majestie of Eve,
As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,
With sweet austeer composure thus reply'd,
To Mr Brown On His Book Against T---
© Thomas Parnell
Giddy wth fond ambition, mad wth pride,
Apostate angells once ev'n heavn defi'de;
Avenging heavn its hottest bolts prepard,
And hell and thunder provd their sad reward.
Mummia
© Rupert Brooke
As those of old drank mummia
To fire their limbs of lead,
Making dead kings from Africa
Stand pandar to their bed;
The Painter Dreaming in the Scholar’s House
© Howard Nemerov
The painter’s eye follows relation out.
His work is not to paint the visible,
He says, it is to render visible.
Inside Out
© Diane Wakoski
You cannot let me walk inside you too long inside
the veins where my small feet touch
bottom.
You must reach inside and pull me
like a silver bullet
from your arm.
The New Man
© Jones Very
THE hands must touch and handle many things,
The eyes long waste their glances all in vain;
Last May a Braw Wooer
© Robert Burns
Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me;
I said there was naething I hated like men:
The deuce gae wi 'm to believe me, believe me,
The deuce gae wi 'm to believe me.
Nuit Blanche
© Amy Lowell
I want no horns to rouse me up to-night,
And trumpets make too clamorous a ring
To fit my mood, it is so weary white
I have no wish for doing any thing.
The Image In Lava
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thou thing of years departed!
What ages have gone by,
Since here the mournful seal was set
By love and agony!
Night (This night, agitated by the growing storm)
© Rainer Maria Rilke
This night, agitated by the growing storm,
how it has suddenly expanded its dimensions-,
that ordinarily would have gone unnoticed,
like a cloth folded, and hidden in the folds of time.
