All Poems
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Triad
© Adelaide Crapsey
These be
three silent things:
The falling snow . . . the hour
Before the dawn . . . the mouth of one
Just dead.
The Tryst
© Walter de la Mare
A music wistful for the sea-nymph's sake:
Haply Elijah, o'er his spokes of fire,
Cresting steep Leo, or the heavenly Lyre,
Spied, tranced in azure of inanest space,
Some eyrie hostel, meet for human grace,
Where two might happy be just you and I
The New Moon
© Sara Teasdale
DAY, you have bruised and beaten me,
As rain beats down the bright, proud sea,
Beaten my body, bruised my soul,
Left me nothing lovely or whole
It Isn't Costly
© Edgar Albert Guest
Does the grouch get richer quicker than the friendly sort of man?
Can the grumbler labor better than the cheerful fellow can?
Is the mean and churlish neighbor any cleverer than the one
Who shouts a glad "good morning," and then smiling passes on?
Hymn Written Among The Alps
© Helen Maria Williams
CREATION'S GOD ! with thought elate,
Thy hand divine I see
Impressed on scenes, where all is great,
Where all is full of thee!
Mulla-Mulgars' Journey Song
© Walter de la Mare
That one, alone,
Who's dared and gone
To seek the Magic Wonderstone,
No fear, or care,
Or black despair
Shall heed until his journey's done.
The Song Of The Violin
© Roderic Quinn
SHE stood in the curtains played over by light
The tinted curtains a tired, sweet girl,
With exquisite arms under laces of white
Like an ivory figure in mother-of-pearl.
An Image From A Past Life
© William Butler Yeats
He. Never until this night have I been stirred.
The elaborate starlight throws a reflection
The Empty Bowl
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I held the golden vessel of my soul
And prayed that God would fill it from on high.
"And you, my friends who have been called away"
© Anna Akhmatova
And you, my friends who have been called away,
I have been spared to mourn for you and weep,
Not as a frozen willow over your memory,
But to cry to the world the names of those who sleep.
Wedding Day
© Edith Nesbit
The enchanted hour,
The magic bower,
Where, crowned with roses,
Love love discloses.
An Idyll
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
And even our women, lastly grumbles Ben,
Leaving their nature, dress and talk like men!
Without And Withiin
© James Russell Lowell
My coachman, in the moonlight there,
Looks through the sidelight of the door;
I hear him with his brethren swear,
As I could do-but only more.
The Crow by Kaelum Poulson: American Life in Poetry #182 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Poetry has often served to remind us to look more closely, to see what may have been at first overlooked. Today's poem is by Kaelum Poulson of Washington state. A middle school student and already accomplished maker of poems, he writes of the thankless toils of an unlikely but entirely necessary member of our community—the crow!
The Crow
Against the First
© Mao Zedong
Forests blaze red beneath the frosty sky,
The wrath of Heaven's armies soars to the clouds.
Mist veils Longgang, its thousands peaks blurred.
All cry out in unison:
Our van has taken Zhang Huizan!
Man's Knowledge - Ingorance in the Mysteries of God
© William Henry Drummond
Beneath a sable veil and shadows deep
Of inaccessible and dimming light,
Never Or Now
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
LISTEN, young heroes! your country is calling!
Time strikes the hour for the brave and the true!
Now, while the foremost are fighting and falling,
Fill up the ranks that have opened for you!
