All Poems
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All here
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
IT is not what we say or sing,
That keeps our charm so long unbroken,
Seventy-Six
© William Cullen Bryant
What heroes from the woodland sprung,
When, through the fresh awakened land,
The thrilling cry of freedom rung,
And to the work of warfare strung
The yeoman's iron hand!
Maud
© Alfred Tennyson
Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, Night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the roses blown.
Truth
© William Cowper
Man, on the dubious waves of error toss'd,
His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost,
The End
© Wilfred Owen
After the blast of lightning from the east,
The flourish of loud clouds, the Chariot throne,
After the drums of time have rolled and ceased
And from the bronze west long retreat is blown,
The World's Advance
© George Meredith
Judge mildly the tasked world; and disincline
To brand it, for it bears a heavy pack.
Anchored To The Infinite
© Edwin Markham
The builder who first bridged Niagaras gorge,
Before he swung his cable, shore to shore,
Afterwards by David Baker: American Life in Poetry #133 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
It may be that we are most alone when attending funerals, at least that's how it seems to me. By alone I mean that even among throngs of mourners we pull back within ourselves and peer out at life as if through a window. David Baker, an Ohio poet, offers us a picture of a funeral that could be anybody's.
Afterwards
A short ride in the van, then the eight of us
there in the heatâwhite shirtsleeves sticking,
the women's gloves offâfanning our faces.
The workers had set up a big blue tent
The Spectrum
© William Cosmo Monkhouse
HOW many colors here do we see set,
Like rings upon Gods finger? Some say three,
Metamorphoses: Book The Fifth
© Ovid
The End of the Fifth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
AN ELEGY Occasioned by the losse of the most incomparable Lady Stanhope, daughter to the Earl of Nor
© Henry King
Lightned by that dimme Torch our sorrow bears
We sadly trace thy Coffin with our tears;
And though the Ceremonious Rites are past
Since thy fair body into earth was cast;
Welcome, May
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Welcome, May! welcome, May!
Thou hast been too long away,
All the widow'd wintry hours
Wept for thee, gentle May;
But the fault was only ours-
We were sad when thou wert gay!
My Paw Said So
© Edgar Albert Guest
Wolves ain't so bad if you treat 'em all right,
My Paw said so.
They're as fond of a game as they are of a fight,
My Paw said so.
An' all of the animals found in the wood
Ain't always ferocious. Most times they are good.
The Old Swimmin' Hole
© James Whitcomb Riley
Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep
Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep,
The Double-Headed Snake of Newbury
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Far away in the twilight time
Of every people, in every clime,
Pity Me, Loo!
© Henry Clay Work
On the sunset borders of the mountains I stray,
Of a dear home dreaming 'yond the snow peaks far away,
While the bubbling brook beside me goes dancing along,
As it seeks the "Golden Gate" of the ocean blue;
And a lone bird murmurs in the bush-top his song-
"Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!" "Pity me, Loo!"
Dies Irae
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
On that great, that awful day,
This vain world shall pass away.
Despair
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I have experienc'd
The worst, the World can wreak on me--the worst
That can make Life indifferent, yet disturb
With whisper'd Discontents the dying prayer--
