All Poems
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The Raven. Christmas Tale, Told By A School-Boy To His Little Brothers And Sisters
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Right glad was the Raven, and off he went fleet,
And Death riding home on a cloud he did meet,
And he thank'd him again and again for this treat:
They had taken his all; and Revenge it was sweet!
All Things will Die
© Alfred Tennyson
Over the sky.
One after another the white clouds are fleeting;
Every heart this May morning in joyance is beating
The Crossing by Ruth Moose: American Life in Poetry #135 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
The road is wide
but he is called
by something
that knows him
on the other side.
American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright �© 2004 by Ruth Moose, whose most recent book of poetry is âThe Sleepwalker,â? Main Street Rag, 2007. Reprinted from â75 Poems on Retirement,â? edited by Robin Chapman and Judith Strasser, published by University of Iowa Press, 2007, by permission of the author and publisher. Introduction copyright © 2009 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.
Easter
© Edgar Albert Guest
OUT of the darkness and shadow of death,
Out of the anguish that wells from the tomb,
Lilian
© Alfred Tennyson
Praying all I can,
If prayers will not hush thee,
Airy Lilian,
Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee,
Fairy Lilian.
King Ryence's Challenge
© Thomas Percy
When this mortal message from his mouthe past,
Great was the noyse bothe in hall and in bower:
The king fum'd; the queene screecht; ladies were aghast;
Princes puff'd; barons blustred; lords began lower;
Knights stormed; squires startled, like steeds in a stower;
Pages and yeomen yell'd out in the hall;
Translation From Alfred De Mussets Ode To Malibran
© Frances Anne Kemble
O Maria Felicia! the Painter and Bard,
Behind them in dying leave undying heirs,
Twenty-First Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
The morning mist is cleared away,
Yet still the face of Heaven is grey,
Nor yet this autumnal breeze has stirred the grove,
Faded yet full, a paler green
Skirts soberly the tranquil scene,
The red-breast warbles round this leafy cove.
On Delia (Bid Adieu, My Sad Heart)
© William Cowper
Bid adieu, my sad heart, bid adieu to thy peace!
Thy pleasure is past, and thy sorrows increase;
See the shadows of evening how far they extend,
And a long night is coming, that never may end;
For the sun is now set that enlivened the scene,
And an age must be past ere it rises again.
Infant Eyes
© Ernest Myers
Blood of my blood, bone of my bone,
Heart of my being's heart,
Strange visitant, yet very son;
All this, and more, thou art.
Lines Addressed To Dr. Darwin, Author Of The 'Botanic Garden.'
© William Cowper
Two Poets, (poets, by report,
Not oft so well agree,)
Sweet harmonist of Flora's court!
Conspire to honour thee.
To The Reverend Mr. Mabell, Of Cambridge
© Mary Barber
From Noise, and Nonsense, and vain Laughte free,
I steal a thoughtful Hour, and give to thee;
To thee, Conductor of my heedless Youth,
Who taught me first to rev'rence Sense, and Truth;
Virtue to praise; and boldly Vice deride,
With all the Pomp of Fashion on her Side.
Owl
© Sylvia Plath
Clocks belled twelve. Main street showed otherwise
Than its suburb of woods : nimbus--
Lit, but unpeopled, held its windows
Of wedding pastries,
Gaspara Stampa
© William Rose Benet
I burned, I wept, I sang: I burn, sing, weep again,
And I shall weep and sing, I shall forever burn
Until or death or time or fortunes turn
Shall still my eye and heart, still fire and pain.
The Desire Of The Heart
© Arthur Symons
Heart, is there anything to desire?
Feet, is there anywhere to go?
The Countess
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Over the wooded northern ridge,
Between its houses brown,
To the dark tunnel of the bridge
The street comes straggling down.
Reflections
© George Crabbe
Beware then, Age, that what was won,
If life's past labours, studies, views,
Be lost not, now the labour's done,
When all thy part is,--not to lose:
When thou canst toil or gain no more,
Destroy not what was gain'd before.
