All Poems
/ page 1819 of 3210 /
Right Apprehension
© Thomas Traherne
Give but to things their true esteem,
And those which now so vile and worthless seem
What The Snow Man Said
© Vachel Lindsay
The Moons a snowball. See the drifts
Of white that cross the sphere.
The Moons a snowball, melted down
A dozen times a year.
Adelaide Ironside.
© James Brunton Stephens
(Australian Painter. Born at Sydney, 17th November, 1831. Died at
Rome, 15th November, 1867.)
[GUARDIAN ANGEL.]
A Prayer for Rain
© Paul Eluard
Let it come down: these thicknesses of air
have long enough walled love away from love;
Song I
© Mathilde Blind
OH haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The majesty of Rome to me is nought;
The imperial story of her conquering car
Touches me only with compassionate thought
For the doomed nations faded by her star.
Sonnet II: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
© William Shakespeare
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow
And dig deep trenches in thy beautys field,
The Search Party
© William Matthews
Reader, by now you must be sure
you know just where we are,
deep in symbolic woods.
Irony, self-accusation,
someone else’s suffering.
The search is that of art.
Hysteria
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill
Equations of the Light
© Dana Gioia
Turning the corner, we discovered it
just as the old wrought-iron lamps went on—
a quiet, tree-lined street, only one block long
resting between the noisy avenues.
The Clan of MacCaura
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Oh! bright are the names of the chieftains and sages,
That shine like the stars through the darkness of ages,
The Tour
© Sylvia Plath
O maiden aunt, you have come to call.
Do step into the hall!
With your bold
Gecko, the little flick!
All cogs, weird sparkle and every cog solid gold.
And I in slippers and housedress with no lipstick!
Talbingo
© Kenneth Slessor
Now it’s a sort of aching valley,
Basalt shaggy with scales,
A funnel of tobacco-coloured clay,
Smoulders of puffed earth
And pebbles and shell-bodied flies
And water thickening to stone in pocks.
A Dost O' Blues
© James Whitcomb Riley
I' got no patience with blues at all!
And I ust to kindo talk
California Prodigal
© Jon Anderson
Star Jasmine and old vines
Lay claim upon the ghosted land,
Then quiet pools whisper
Private childhood secrets.
Onn John A Dalbenie
© Thomas Chatterton
Johne makes a jarre 'boute
Lancaster and Yorke.
Bee stille gode manne,
and learne to mynde thie worke.
Sonnet 83: Good, Brother Philip
© Sir Philip Sidney
Good, brother Philip, I have borne you long.
I was content you should in favor creep,
While craftily you seem'd your cut to keep,
As though that fair soft hand did you great wrong.
Cassandra Southwick
© John Greenleaf Whittier
To the God of all sure mercies let my blessing rise today,
From the scoffer and the cruel He hath plucked the spoil away;
Yes, he who cooled the furnace around the faithful three,
And tamed the Chaldean lions, hath set His handmaid free!
