All Poems
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The Dead Hand
© George MacDonald
The witch lady walked along the strand,
Heard a roaring of the sea,
On the edge of a pool saw a dead man's hand,
Good thing for a witch lady!
Sonnet LXXXV
© Edmund Spenser
THe world that cannot deeme of worthy things,
when I doe praise her, say I doe but flatter:
so does the Cuckow, when the Mauis sings,
begin his witlesse note apace to clatter.
The Avaricious
© Theocritus
I would be as great a toil to count
The waves upon the shore, when the wind
Drives them to land along the surface
Of the green sea, or to wash
Unpublished Poem II
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
WHENEVER you meet with a man from home
Who laughs at the falls and the fences here,
America
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Men say, Columbia, we shall hear thy guns.
But in what tongue shall be thy battle-cry?
How Good Fortune Surprises Us by Jackson Wheeler: American Life in Poetry #144 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet
© Ted Kooser
I'd guess you've heard it said that the reason we laugh when somebody slips on a banana peel is that we're happy that it didn't happen to us. That kind of happiness may be shameful, but many of us have known it. In the following poem, the California poet, Jackson Wheeler, tells us of a similar experience.
How Good Fortune Surprises Us
I was hauling freight
out of the Carolinas
up to the Cumberland Plateau
when, in Tennessee, I saw
from the freeway, at 2 am
a house ablaze.
Solitude; In Youth And Age
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
IN youth we shrink from solitude!
It's quiet ways we shun,
Because our hearts are fain to dance
With others in the sun;--
Life's nectar bubbling brightly up,
O'erfloweth toward our brother's cup.
To S. C.
© John Kenyon
The chords thy ready fingers used to move
At fond request of dear domestic love,
Ma And The Ouija Board
© Edgar Albert Guest
It's just a shiny piece of wood, with letters printed here an' there,
An' has a little table which you put your fingers on with care,
An' then you sit an' whisper low some question that you want to know.
Then by an' by the spirit comes an' makes the little table go,
An' Ma, she starts to giggle then an' Pa just grumbles out, "Oh, Lord!
I wish you hadn't bought this thing. We didn't need a ouija board."
The Wheel of the Breast
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Through rivers of veins on the nameless quest
The tide of my life goes hurriedly sweeping,
Till it reaches that curious wheel o' the breast,
The human heart, which is never at rest.
The Hill
© Rupert Brooke
Breathless, we flung us on the windy hill,
Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
Roman Meditation
© Arthur Symons
Learn wisdom, this is wisdom, cry
The teachers; and the teachers die.
True Johnny
© Robert Graves
Mary: Johnny, sweetheart, can you be true
To all those famous vows you've made?
Employment
© George Herbert
If as a flowre doth spread and die,
Thou wouldst extend me to some good,
Before I were frost's extremitie
Nipt in the bud;
St. Louis: A Song Of The City
© Edgar Albert Guest
I was in St. Louis when their mystic Prophet came
From his dark, mysterious haunts to gaze upon the throngs.
None had ever seen his face and none could tell his name.
Yet they greeted him with cheers and welcomed him with songs.
Matilda Gathering Flowers
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
And earnest to explore within--around--
The divine wood, whose thick green living woof
Tempered the young day to the sight--I wound
Causerie (Conversation)
© Charles Baudelaire
Vous êtes un beau ciel d'automne, clair et rose!
Mais la tristesse en moi monte comme la mer,
Et laisse, en refluant, sur ma lèvre morose
Le souvenir cuisant de son limon amer.
The war Widow
© Alfred Noyes
Black-veiled, black-gowned, she rides in bus and train,
With eyes that fill too listlessly for tears.
Her waxen hands clasp and unclasp again.
_Good News_, they cry. She neither sees nor hears.
A Newport Romance
© Francis Bret Harte
They say that she died of a broken heart
(I tell the tale as 'twas told to me);
But her spirit lives, and her soul is part
Of this sad old house by the sea.
