All Poems
/ page 1878 of 3210 /Tant ai mo cor
© Bernard de Ventadorn
Mas fals lauzengier engres
m'an lunhat de so pais
que tals s'en fai esdevis
qu'eu cuidera qu'ens celes
si.ns saubes ams d'un coratge.
Make Me No Grave
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Make me no grave within that quiet place
Where friends shall sadly view the grassy mound,
Politely solemn for a little space,
As though the spirit slept beneath the ground.
No Children!
© Edgar Albert Guest
No children in the house to play-
It must be hard to live that way!
Heaven, 1963 by Kim Noriega: American Life in Poetry #120 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
He's standing in our yard on Porter Road
beneath the old chestnut tree.
He's wearing sunglasses,
a light cotton shirt,
and a dreamy expression.
Sonnet 65: Love By Sure Proof
© Sir Philip Sidney
Love by sure proof I may call thee unkind,
That giv'st no better ear to my just cries:
Thou whom to me such my good turns should bind,
As I may well recount, but none can prize:
Grandpa's Christmas
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In his great cushioned chair by the fender
An old man sits dreaming to-night,
Those Who Sit
© Arthur Rimbaud
These old men have always been one flesh with their seats,
feeling bright suns drying their skins to the texture of calico,
or else, looking at the window-panes
where the snow is turning grey,
shivering with the painful shiver of the toad.
The Goal.
© Arthur Henry Adams
ON the grey levels of the plain of life
When, slowly swirled,
The moving hills of morning mist
Hedged in the world
The Wish
© Rachel Elizabeth Patterson
I do not wish thee worldly wealth-
For it may flee away;
I do not wish thee beauty's charms-
For they will soon decay.
The Orchard Lands Of Long Ago
© James Whitcomb Riley
The orchard lands of Long Ago!
O drowsy winds, awake, and blow
Why Feed The Early Signs Of Boredom?
© Alexander Pushkin
Why feed the early signs of boredom
With sinister and dismal thought,
To An Ingrate
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
This is to-day, a golden summer's day
And yet--and yet
My vengeful soul will not forget
The past, forever now forgot, you say.
I Would Not Be A King
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I would not be a king--enough
Of woe it is to love;
The path to power is steep and rough,
And tempests reign above.
In Country Sleep
© Dylan Thomas
Night and the reindeer on the clouds above the haycocks
And the wings of the great roc ribboned for the fair!
The leaping saga of prayer! And high, there, on the hare-
Heeled winds the rooks
Cawing from their black bethels soaring, the holy books
Of birds! Among the cocks like fire the red fox
Katrina's Sun-Dial
© Henry Van Dyke
Hours fly,
Flowers die:
New days,
New ways:
Pass by!
Love stays.
I Slept, And Dreamed That Life Was Beauty
© Louisa May Alcott
"I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty;
I woke, and found that life was duty.
Was thy dream then a shadowy lie?
Toil on, sad heart, courageously,
And thou shall find thy dream to be
A noonday light and truth to thee."
Catullus, Considerable Kisser
© Franklin Pierce Adams
(A Pasteurization of Ode VII.)
How many kisses, Lesbia, miss, you ask would
Lachlan Side
© Henry Lawson
REGION of damper and junk and tea,
Region of pastures wide!
The fairest spots in the world to me
Are out on the Lachlan Side.