All Poems
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The Disagreeable Man
© William Schwenck Gilbert
If you give me your attention, I will tell you what I am:
I'm a genuine philanthropist - all other kinds are sham.
Jim
© James Whitcomb Riley
He was jes a plain ever'-day, all-round kind of a jour.,
Consumpted-Iookin'-- but la!
In The Garden I: The Garden
© Edward Dowden
PAST the town's clamour is a garden full
Of loneness and old greenery; at noon
At Cashel
© Padraic Colum
ABOVE me stand, worn from their ancient use,
The King's, the Bishop's, and the Warrior's house,
Quiet as folds upon a grassy knoll:
Stark-grey they stand, wall joined to ancient wall,
Chapel, and Castle, and Cathedral.
The Storm And The Bush.
© Arthur Henry Adams
THERE are only two things in the world
The storm in the air and the stretch of green leaves;
The flesh of the forest that quivers and heaves
As the blast on its bosom is hurled.
The host, he says that all is well
© Howard Nemerov
He asked himself, poor moron, because he had
Nobody else to ask. The others went right on
Talking about form, talking about myth
And the (so help us) need for a modern idiom;
The verseballs among them kept counting syllables.
Liu Ch'e
© Ezra Pound
The rustling of the silk is discontinued,
Dust drifts over the court-yard,
There is no sound of foot-fall, and the leaves
Scurry into heaps and lie still,
And she the rejoicer of the heart is beneath them:
The Subterranean River, At Cong.
© Richard Monckton Milnes
A pleasant mean of joy and wonder fills
The trave'ller's mind, beside this secret stream,
That flows from lake to lake beneath the hills,
And penetrates their slumber like a dream.
Paralysis
© Rupert Brooke
For moveless limbs no pity I crave,
That never were swift! Still all I prize,
Laughter and thought and friends, I have;
No fool to heave luxurious sighs
For the woods and hills that I never knew.
The more excellent way's yet mine! And you
The Year-King
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
It is the last of all the days,
The day on which the Old Year dies.
Ah! yes, the fated hour is near;
I see upon his snow-white bier
Outstretched the weary wanderer lies,
And mark his dying gaze.
Pride In Heaven
© George Moses Horton
On heaven's ethereal plain,
Where hostile rage ambition first begun,
Grandmother's Story Of Bunker Hill Battle (as she saw it from the Belfry)
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
'Tis like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one remembers
All the achings and the quakings of "the times that tried men's souls";
When I talk of Whig and Tory, when I tell the Rebel story,
To you the words are ashes, but to me they're burning coals.
Summer in the South
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
The Oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
Not Yet
© Katharine Lee Bates
NOT yet hath Nature, lovely colorist,
Bestirred her from creative dream to fling
Remember me
© William Percy French
Remember me is all I ask,
And yet
If the remembrance prove a task,
Forget.
My Friend
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
MY Friend wears a cheerful smile of his own,
And a musical tongue has he;
We sit and look in each other's face,
And are very good company.
Humayun To Zobeida (From the Urdu)
© Sarojini Naidu
You flaunt your beauty in the rose, your glory in the dawn,
Your sweetness in the nightingale, your white- ness in the swan.
