All Poems
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Trust in God
© Charles Harpur
Deep trust in Godfor that I still have sought
Through all the grim doubts that bemock the soul,
The Pack
© Gamaliel Bradford
A bit of metaphysics or a psychologic catch
Will sit upon my breast all day and scratch and scratch and
scratch. Now isn't it a pity that the ragged thorns of culture Should be tearing at my vitals, as Prometheus's the vulture?
There Is A Garden In Her Face
© Thomas Campion
There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heav'nly paradise is that place
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.
There cherries grow which none may buy,
Till "Cherry ripe" themselves do cry.
Ladys Tomb
© Pierre de Ronsard
As in the gardens, all through May, the rose,
Lovely, and young, and fair apparelled,
The Pedant
© Matthew Prior
Lysander talks extremely well;
On any subject let him dwell
His tropes and figures will content ye
He should possess to all degrees
The art of talk; he practises
Full fourteen hours in four-and-twenty.
Open, Time
© Louise Imogen Guiney
Open, Time, and let him pass
Shortly where his feet would be!
Like a leaf at Michaelmas
Swooning from the tree,
The Maid Of Jerusalem
© John Clare
Maid of Jerusalem, by the Dead Sea,
I wandered all sorrowing thinking of thee,--
Thy city in ruins, thy kindred deplored,
All fallen and lost by the Ottoman's sword.
Sonnet 107: "Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul..."
© William Shakespeare
Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
To Man Who Goes Seeking Immortality Bidding Him Look Nearer Home.
© Adelaide Crapsey
Too far afield thy search. Nay, turn. Nay, turn.
At thine own elbow potent Memory stands,
An American Addresses Philomela
© John Crowe Ransom
Procne, Philomela, and Itylus,
Your names are liquid, your improbable tale
Is recited in the classic numbers of the nightingale.
Ah, but our numbers are not felicitous,
It goes not liquidly for us!
His Mother's Way
© James Whitcomb Riley
Tomps 'ud allus haf to say
Somepin' 'bout "his mother's way."--
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 5.
© William Cowper
Adam. Restrain, restrain thy step
Whoe'er thou art, nor with thy songs inveigle
Him, who has only cause for ceaseless tears.
Choriambics -- II
© Rupert Brooke
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void,
lost in the haunted wood,
Men And Dreamers
© Edgar Albert Guest
IT'S one o' my idees that men ain't all of fightin' stock,
They ain't all built fer ploughin' or fer hewin' out a rock;
An' they ain't all made fer battlin' up against life's steady stream,
There must be some of us on earth God put here jes' to dream;
Leastwise it strikes me that way if it wasn't so, I guess,
Instead o' dreamin' here I 'd be out hustlin' fer success.
The Death of Sisera
© Charles Harpur
When Deborah the prophetess ruled in Gods land,
And Sisera died under Jaels fierce hand,
The Contented Man's Morice
© George Wither
False world, thy malice I espie
With what thou hast designed;
And therein with thee to comply,
Who likewise are combined:
But, do thy worst, I thee defie,
Thy mischiefs are confined.
Time And The Garden
© Yvor Winters
The spring has darkened with activity.
The future gathers in vine, bush, and tree:
The Old Squire
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I like the hunting of the hare
Better than that of the fox;
I like the joyous morning air,
And the crowing of the cocks.
