All Poems
/ page 1818 of 3210 /Summer And Winter
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
It was a bright and cheerful afternoon,
Towards the end of the sunny month of June,
When the north wind congregates in crowds
The floating mountains of the silver clouds
Hugging the Jukebox
© Naomi Shihab Nye
They’ve tried putting him to bed, but he sings in bed.
Even in Spanish—and he doesn’t speak Spanish!
Sings and screams, wants to go back to the jukebox.
O mama I was born with a trumpet in my throat
spent all these years tryin’ to cough it up …
Two Old Kings
© Carolyn Wells
Oh! the King of Kanoodledum
And the King of Kanoodledee,
They went to sea
In a jigamaree--
A full-rigged jigamaree.
Poems On Beauty
© Rabindranath Tagore
Beauty is in the ideal of perfect harmony
which is in the universal being;
truth the perfect comprehension of the universal mind.
Leda and the Swan
© William Butler Yeats
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
Wanting Sumptuous Heavens
© Robert Bly
No one grumbles among the oyster clans,
And lobsters play their bone guitars all summer.
The Landlord
© James Russell Lowell
What boot your houses and your lands?
In spite of close-drawn deed and fence,
Like water, twixt your cheated hands,
They slip into the graveyard's sands,
And mock your ownership's pretence.
A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General
© Jonathan Swift
His Grace! impossible! what dead!
Of old age too, and in his bed!
In The Night
© George MacDonald
As to her child a mother calls,
"Come to me, child; come near!"
Calling, in silent intervals,
The Master's voice I hear.
November Night
© Adelaide Crapsey
Listen. .
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees
And fall.
Ode to Duty
© André Breton
Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eo perductus, ut non tantum recte facere possim, sed nisi recte facere non possim"
"I am no longer good through deliberate intent, but by long habit have reached a point where I am not only able to do right, but am unable to do anything but what is right."
(Seneca, Letters 120.10)
The Christ Of The Andes
© Edwin Markham
After volcanoes husht with snows,
Up where the wide-winged condor goes,
Great Aconcagua, husht and high,
Sends down the ancient peace of the sky.
The Princess: Ask me no more
© Alfred Tennyson
Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;
The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,
With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.
Visitation
© Jeffrey Harrison
Walking past the open window, she is surprised
by the song of the white-throated sparrow
A Better Resurrection
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
The Wind
© Sara Teasdale
A wind is blowing over my soul,
I hear it cry the whole night thro' -
Is there no peace for me on earth
Except with you?