All Poems
/ page 1997 of 3210 /Cafes In Damascus
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
LANGUIDLY the night-wind bloweth
From the gardens round,
Where the clear Barrada floweth
With a lulling sound.
Sonnet 119: "What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,..."
© William Shakespeare
What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
The Glass Jar
© Gwen Harwood
Wrapped in a scarf his monstrance stood
ready to bless, to exorcize
monsters that whispering would rise
nightly from the intricate wood
that ringed his bed, to light with total power
the holy commonplace of field and flower.
Quia Multum Amavi
© Oscar Wilde
. DEAR Heart I think the young impassioned priest
When first he takes from out the hidden shrine
His God imprisoned in the Eucharist,
And eats the bread, and drinks the dreadful wine,
To R. - at Anzac
© Aubrey Herbert
You left your vineyards, dreaming of the vines in a dream land
And dim Italian cities where high cathedrals stand.
At Anzac in the evening, so many things we planned,
And now you sleep with comrades in the Anafarta sand.
Thomas Chatterton
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
WITH Shakspeare's manhood at a boy's wild heart,
Through Hamlet's doubt to Shakspeare near allied,
The Sodger's Lassie
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
A'the toun is to the doun
Puin' o' the blaeberrie.
Ab's gane, Rab's gane,
Aggie's gane, Maggie's gane,
A' the toun is to the doun,
An's left the house to wae and me.
Seed-Time And Harvest
© John Greenleaf Whittier
As o'er his furrowed fields which lie
Beneath a coldly dropping sky,
Yet chill with winter's melted snow,
The husbandman goes forth to sow,
Rime 28
© Gaspara Stampa
When before those eyes, my life and light,
my beauty and fortune in the world, I stand,
The Haunted Garden
© Madison Julius Cawein
THERE a tattered marigold
And dead asters manifold,
Showed him where the garden old
Of time bloomed:
Though Some Good Things Of Lower Worth
© Anna Laetitia Waring
The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance. Psalm 16:5.
Though some good things of lower worth
The Horse Show
© William Carlos Williams
Constantly near you, I never in my entire
sixty-four years knew you so well as yesterday
Stupid
© Raymond Carver
It's what the kids nowadays call weed. And it drifts
like clouds from his lips. He hopes no one
To Eleonora Duse I
© Sara Teasdale
Oh beauty that is filled so full of tears,
Where every passing anguish left its trace,
I pray you grant to me this depth of grace:
That I may see before it disappears,
Sonnet 129: "Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame..."
© William Shakespeare
Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Acquaintance
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Not we who daily walk the City's street;
Not those who have been cradled in its heart,