All Poems
/ page 1879 of 3210 /
Stanzas. -- April, 1814
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
The Bankers Secret
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
The reader paused,--the Teacups knew his ways,--
He, like the rest, was not averse to praise.
Voices and hands united; every one
Joined in approval: "Number Three, well done!"
Sea-Shore Musings
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
How oft Ive longed to gaze on thee,
Thou proud and mighty deep!
Ricordi
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Of a tower, of a tower, white
In the warm Italian night,
Of a tower that shines and springs
I dream, and of our delight.
Im So Good That I Dont Have To Brag
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Now I'm warnin' all you women don't stand too close to me cause you might catch fire
Now you're talkin' to a man in a whole other kind of bag
The Man Of His Word
© Edgar Albert Guest
THE man of his word met a maid on the beach,
I The fine art of swimming he offered to teach
From the Forests
© Henry Kendall
Where in a green, moist, myrtle dell
The torrent voice rings strong
And clear, above a star-bright well,
I write this woodland song.
Her Praise
© William Butler Yeats
SHE is foremost of those that I would hear praised.
I have gone about the house, gone up and down
In Memory of Marina Tsvetaeva
© Boris Pasternak
Dismal day, with the weather inclement.
Inconsolably rivulets run
Down the porch in front of the doorway;
Through my wide-open windows they come.
To The Memory Of Father Prout
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
In deep dejection, but with affection,
I often think of those pleasant times,
In the days of Fraser, ere I touched a razor,
How I read and revell'd in thy racy rhymes;
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto III.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III A Paradox
To tryst Love blindfold goes, for fear
He should not see, and eyeless night
He chooses still for breathing near
Beauty, that lives but in the sight.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Spanish Jew's Second Tale; Scanderbeg
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The battle is fought and won
By King Ladislaus, the Hun,
The Crystal Gazer
© Sara Teasdale
I shall gather myself into myself again,
I shall take my scattered selves and make them one,
Fusing them into a polished crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
Songs Set To Music: 4. Set By Mr. Smith
© Matthew Prior
Come, weep no more, for 'tis in vain;
Torment not thus your pretty heart;
Think, Flavia, we may meet again,
As well as that we now must part.
Late Fragment
© Raymond Carver
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
Mountains
© Henry Kendall
Rifted mountains, clad with forests, girded round by gleaming pines,
Where the morning, like an angel, robed in golden splendour shines;
Where's the Use?
© Robert Fuller Murray
Oh, where's the use of having gifts that can't be turned to money?
And where's the use of singing, when there's no one wants to hear?
It may be one or two will say your songs are sweet as honey,
But where's the use of honey, when the loaf of bread is dear?
