All Poems

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The Phantom-Song

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

IN museful hours, when thoughts of grace divine
Roll wave-like up the stormless strand of dreams;--
When that which is grows vague as that which seems,--
I mark, far-off, a radiant shade incline

Der Blick

© Joseph Freiherr Von Eichendorff

Schaust Du mich aus Deinen Augen

lächelnd wie aus Himmeln an,

Sic Transit

© Muriel Stuart

"What did she leave?" . . .

Only these hungry miser-words, poor heart!

Fragments - Lines 0183 - 0192

© Theognis of Megara

Among rams and asses and horses, Kyrnos, we look for those

Of noble breeding, and a man wants them to mate

Sohrab and Rustum: An Episode

© Matthew Arnold

"Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear!
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day.
But choose a champion from the Persian lords
To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man."

Jean Chouan

© Victor Marie Hugo

The Whites fled, and the Blues fired down the glade.
A hill the plain commanded and surveyed,
And round this hill, of trees and verdure bare,
Wild forests closed th' horizon everywhere.

Dusk

© Jose Asuncion Silva

The lamp that stands beside the crib
Is not yet lighted to warm the gloom
Of the blueish, opaque light falling
Through the curtains of late afternoon.

James Lionel Michael

© Henry Kendall

Latter leaves, in Autumns breath,
White and sere,
Sanctify the scholars death,
Lying here.

To Luna

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Quivering mists in silv'ry dress
Float around thy features bright;
When thy gentle foot is heard,

Just Folks

© Edgar Albert Guest

We're queer folks here.

We'll talk about the weather,

Chanson. - And Imitation

© Matthew Prior

Que fais tu bergere dans ce beau verger
Tu ne songe gueres a me soulager?
Tu connois ma flamme, tu vois ma langueur,
Prens belle inhumaine pitie de mon coeur.

The Slow Pacific Swell

© Yvor Winters

Far out of sight forever stands the sea,

Bounding the land with pale tranquillity.

With shimmer of steel and blare of brass,
And Switzers marching with martial stride,
And cavaliers trampling brown the grass,
Came bow-legged Charles through the Apennine pass,
With black Il Moro for traitor guide;

Any Woman

© Katharine Tynan

I am the pillars of the house;
The keystone of the arch am I.
Take me away, and roof and wall
Would fall to ruin me utterly.

Inscriptions: I: For A Grotto

To me, whom in their lays the shepherds call

Actæa, daughter of the neighbouring stream,

From "January"

© John Clare

Supper removed, the mother sits,

And tells her tales by starts and fits.

Artificer

Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets,
machines throbbing quicker than the heart, lopped-off heads, silk
canvases, and he stops under the sky

from "A Sigh For Old Times"

There's not a spot around old Strabane but memory treasures still
From Milltown wide to Crogan's side but has my right good will
And all my comrades kind and true I loved in life's young day
Who roamed with me in reckles glee by many abank and brae.

The Half Of Life Gone

No, no, it is she no longer; never again can she come
And behold the hay-wains creeping o'er the meadows of her home;
No more can she kiss her son or put the rake in his hand
That she handled a while agone in the midst of the haymaking band.
Her laughter is gone and her life; there is no such thing on the earth,
No share for me then in the stir, no share in the hurry and mirth.