All Poems
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Address To My Infant Daughter, Dora On Being Reminded That She Was A Month Old That Day, September 1
© William Wordsworth
--HAST thou then survived-
Mild Offspring of infirm humanity,
The Coronation
© Thomas Hardy
Edward the Pious, and two Edwards more,
The second Richard, Henrys three or four;
All Summarised The Soul
© Stéphane Mallarme
All summarised, the soul,
When slowly we breathe it out
In several rings of smoke
By other rings wiped out
The Thracian Filly
© Anacreon
Ah tell me why you turn and fly,
My little Thracian filly shy?
Why turn askance
That cruel glance,
And think that such a dunce am I?
Zephyrus The Awakener
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Come, thou awakener of the spirit's ocean,
Zephyr, whom to thy cloud or cave
No thought can trace! speed with thy gentle motion!
Faiths Vista
© Henry Abbey
When from the vaulted wonder of the sky
The curtain of the light is drawn aside,
The Front Seat
© Edgar Albert Guest
When I was but a little lad I always liked to ride,
No matter what the rig we had, right by the driver's side.
Disillusioned - By an Ex-Enthusiast
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Oh, that my soul its gods could see
As years ago they seemed to me
When first I painted them;
Invested with the circumstance
Of old conventional romance:
Exploded theorem!
The Wolves
© Allen Tate
There are wolves in the next room waiting
With heads bent low, thrust out, breathing
As Bronze May Be Much Beautified (Unfinished)
© Wilfred Owen
As bronze may be much beautified
By lying in the dark damp soil,
So men who fade in dust of warfare fade
Fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.
Waterin Th' Horses
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
I took th' horses to th' brook - to water 'em you know,
Th' air was cold with just a touch o' frost;
And as we went a-joggin' down I couldn't help but
think,
O' city folk an' all the things they lost.
Nightmare At Noon
© Stephen Vincent Benet
But do not call it loud. There is plenty of time.
There is plenty of time, while the bombs on London fall
And turn the world to wind and water and fire.
There is time to sleep while the fire-bombs fall on London,
They are stubborn people in London.
The Willow
© Dorothy Parker
On sweet young earth where the myrtle presses,
Long we lay, when the May was new;
The willow was winding the moon in her tresses,
The bud of the rose was told with dew.
Home, Sweet Home
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
"It shall be a royal mansion,
A fair and beautiful thing,
It will be the presence-chamber
Of thy Saviour, Lord and King.
Oh For A Day Of Spring
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh for a day of Spring,
A day of flowers and folly,
Of birds that pipe and sing
And boyhood's melancholy!
I would not grudge the laughter,
The tears that followed after.
On The Way To The Bottom
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
On the way to the bottom
I met an ole friend of mine
He said "Buddy, I do believe
this is the end of the line"
Sonnet 145: "Those lips that Love's own hand did make..."
© William Shakespeare
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breath'd forth the sound that said I hate
Here We Are!
© Edgar Albert Guest
Here we are, Britain! the finest and best of us
Taking our coats off and rolling our sleeves,
