All Poems

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Old Homes

© Madison Julius Cawein

Old homes among the hills! I love their gardens;
Their old rock fences, that our day inherits;
Their doors, round which the great trees stand like wardens;
Their paths, down which the shadows march like spirits;
Broad doors and paths that reach bird-haunted gardens.

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Metamorphoses: Book The Eleventh

© Ovid

  The End of the Eleventh 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

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The Moth

© Walter de la Mare

  Isled in the midnight air,
  Musked with the dark's faint bloom,
  Out into glooming and secret haunts
  The flame cries, 'Come!'

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I Can Still See You

© Paul Celan

I can still see you: an Echo,
to be touched with Feeler-
Words, on the Parting-
Ridge.

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Ballade Of The Muse

© Andrew Lang

Queen, that to mute lips could'st unite
The wild swan's dying melody!
Thy gifts, ah! how shall he requite -
The man thou lov'st, Melpomene?

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The Red Sea

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Our souls shall be Leviathans

  In purple seas of wine

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I Will Not Give Thee All My Heart

© Grace Hazard Conkling

I will not give thee all my heart

For that I need a place apart

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Primroses

© William Gay

They shine upon my table there,
A constellation mimic sweet,
No stars in Heaven could shine more fair,
Nor Earth has beauty more complete;
And on my table there they shine,
And speak to me of things Divine.

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The "Alice Jean"

© Robert Graves

One moonlit night a ship drove in,
  A ghost ship from the west,
Drifting with bare mast and lone tiller,
  Like a mermaid drest
In long green weed and barnacles:
  She beached and came to rest.

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Christmas Roses

© Edith Nesbit

THE summer roses all are gone--
  Dead, laid in shroud of rain-wet mould;
And passion's lightning time is done,
  And Love is laid out white and cold.
Summer and youth for us are dead,
  What do old age and winter bring instead?

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Jerusalem Delivered - Book 05 - part 03

© Torquato Tasso

XXXIII

Arnoldo, minion of the Prince thus slain,

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What A Sick Woman Does

© Edgar Albert Guest

ACONVALESCIN' woman does the strangest sort o' things,

An' it's wonderful the courage that a little new strength brings;

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New Heaven, New War

© Robert Southwell

Come to your heaven, you heavenly choirs,
Earth hath the heaven of your desires;
Remove your dwelling to your God,
A stall is now his best abode;
Sith men their homage do deny,
Come, Angels, all their fault supply.

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Alone

© Hayyim Nahman Bialik

Wind blew, light drew them all.
New songs revive their mornings.
Only I, small bird, am forsaken
under the Shekhina’s wing.

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The Saturday Night Song

© Julian Tuwim

Hooray, the echo will resound throughout the wide square,
When a sincere drunkard's song emanates from my throat;
Tonight I'll be lapping up a smoky pub's atmosphere,
I'm bloody well going to get sloshed, buzzed and somewhere float.

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Would I Were With Thee!

© Caroline Norton

WOULD I were with thee! every day and hour
Which now I spend so sadly, far from thee--
Would that my form possessed the magic power
To follow where my heavy heart would be!
Whate'er thy lot--by land or sea--
Would I were with thee--eternally!

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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXV

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

TO ONE WHO SPOKE ILL OF HIM
What is your quarrel with me, in love's name,
Fair queen of wrath? What evil have I done,
What treason to the thought of our dear shame

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To D—, Dead By Her Own Hand

© Howard Nemerov


That was a life ago. And now you’ve gone,
Who would no longer play the grown-ups’ game
Where, balanced on the ledge above the dark,
You go on running and you don’t look down,
Nor ever jump because you fear to fall.

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An Allegory On Man

© Thomas Parnell

A thoughfull Being, long and spare,
Our race of Mortals call him Care,
(Were Homer living well he knew
What Name the Gods woud call him too)
With fine Mechanick Genius wrought,
And lovd to work tho no one bought.

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The Young Ionia

© John Frederick Nims

If you could come on the late train for
  The same walk
Or a hushed talk by the fireplace
  When the ash flares