All Poems

/ page 1986 of 3210 /

Order by :

Mater Christianorum, Ora Pro Nobis

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

In the hour of grief and sorrow,

When my heart is full of care,

Ellen Irwin Or The Braes Of Kirtle

© William Wordsworth

FAIR Ellen Irwin, when she sate
Upon the braes of Kirtle,
Was lovely as a Grecian maid
Adorned with wreaths of myrtle;

Thy Will Be Done

© John Greenleaf Whittier

WE see not, know not; all our way

Is night, with Thee alone is day:

Antagonists.

© Arthur Henry Adams

WHAT though the neutral sea sever us twain?
In the still night your soul in mine I take;
Your eyes, hilarious with passion, wake,
And love's delirium is mine again,

On Planting A Tree At Inveraray

© James Russell Lowell

Who does his duty is a question
Too complex to be solved by me,
But he, I venture the suggestion,
Does part of his that plants a tree.

Mortality

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

"And we shall be changed.""And we shall be changed."

Ye dainty mosses, lichens grey,

See, where on high the moving masses, piled
By the wind, break in groups grotesque and wild,
Present strange shapes to view;
Oft flares a pallid flash from out their shrouds,
As though some air-born giant 'mid the clouds
Sudden his falchion drew.

Jennys Ribbons

© William Barnes

Jean ax'd what ribbon she should wear

'Ithin her bonnet to the feäir?

I Bless You, Forests

© Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy

I bless my staff and my humble rags.
And the steppe from beginning to end,
And the sun's light, and night's darkness,

Joyful Sense and Purity

© Thomas Traherne

The Prospect was the Gate of Heaven, that Day

The ancient Light of Eden did convey

The Borough. Letter II: The Church

© George Crabbe

"WHAT is a Church?"--Let Truth and Reason speak,

They would reply, "The faithful, pure, and meek;

Krishna Approaches Radha

© Sant Surdas

Krishna said, 'O fair beauty, who are you?
Where do you live? Whose daughter are you?
I never yet saw you in the lanes of Braj.'

To Papa

© Louisa May Alcott

In high Olympus' sacred shade
A gift Minerva wrought
For her beloved philosopher
Immersed in deepest thought.

The Stockmen of Australia

© Anonymous

The stockmen of Australia, what rowdy boys are they,
They will curse and swear a hurricane if you come in their way.
They dash along the forest on black, bay, brown, or grey,
And the stockmen of Australia, hard-riding boys are they.

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 5.

I sometimes hold it half a sin

To put in words the grief I feel;

[Harry Stephens]

© Henry Lawson

So the world of odds and evens ceased to trouble Harry Stephens, and the niggard road no longer echoes to his lonely tread.
For another bushman found him with his bluey wrapped around him, sleeping like a bushman, only sleeping with the mighty dead.
And the shadows were upon him, and they found a ticket on him just a relic of a battle that was lately lost and won.
And it told the stray Camboonian hed been loyal to his union (right or wrong) he had been loyal to the strike of 91.