All Poems
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The Choice
© Emma Lazarus
I saw in dream the spirits unbegot,
Veiled, floating phantoms, lost in twilight space;
The Path
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
THERE are no beaten paths to Glory's height,
There are no rules to compass greatness known;
Ships that Pass in the Night
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;
I look far out into the pregnant night,
Magi
© Sylvia Plath
The abstracts hover like dull angels:
Nothing so vulgar as a nose or an eye
Bossing the ethereal blanks of their face-ovals.
Gavotte
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Memories long in music sleeping,
No more sleeping,
No more dumb;
Delicate phantoms softly creeping
Softly back from the old-world come.
Fritzerl Schnall
© Charles Godfrey Leland
ASH on de Alapama biz,
Deep sinnin long I sat,
I dinks von ding for dinkin
Py afery Diplomat;
On Hearing A Sonata Of Beethoven's Played In The Next Room
© James Russell Lowell
Unseen Musician, thou art sure to please,
For those same notes in happier days I heard
From an Outpost
© Leslie Coulson
I've tramped South England up and down
Down Dorset way, down Devon way,
To G.A.G.
© Charles Kingsley
A hasty jest I once let fall-
As jests are wont to be, untrue-
As if the sum of joy to you
Were hunt and picnic, rout and ball.
Couplets In Praise
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Make I at least your praise, chaplet of sunny verse,
Each dear delight of your told to the universe.
The Slave's Complaint
© George Moses Horton
Something still my heart surveys,
Groping through this dreary maze;
Is it Hope? - then burn and blaze
Forever!
The Dree Woaks
© William Barnes
By the brow o' thik hangèn I spent all my youth,
In the house that did peep out between
For ret os paa Jorden at fryde,
© Peter Andreas Heiberg
For ret os paa Jorden at fryde,
vi skabtes til Frihed af Gud;
The Widow With The Two Mites
© George MacDonald
Here much and little shift and change,
With scale of need and time;
There more and less have meanings strange,
Which the world cannot rime.
The New Woman.
© Arthur Henry Adams
THE stone that all the sullen centuries,
With sluggish hands and massive fingers rude,
Against the sepulchre of womanhood
Had sternly held, she has thrust back with ease,
Love's Mourner
© Augusta Davies Webster
Love faints that looks on baseness face to face:
Love pardons all; but by the pardonings dies,
With a fresh wound of each pierced through the breast.
And there stand pityingly in Love's void place
Kindness of household wont familiar-wise,
And faith to Love-faith to our dead at rest.
Mignonne
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Whate'er thou dost thou'rt dear.
Uncertain troubles sanctify
Sea Longing
© Sara Teasdale
A thousand miles beyond this sun-steeped wall
Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand,
