All Poems
/ page 2061 of 3210 /When Old Wounds Bleed Again
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Is this still woe forlorn
Less than that fierce despair?
Perhaps 'tis worse to bear
Because 'tis easier borne.
On Returning To England
© Alfred Austin
There! once again I stand on home,
Though round me still there swirls the foam,
Approaching Night
© John Clare
Go with your tauntings, go;
Neer think to hurt me so;
I'll scoff at your disdain.
Cold though the winter blow,
When hills are free from snow
It will be spring again.
Sonnet LXVI: I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
© Pablo Neruda
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
Written Soon After The Preceding Poem
© Charles Lamb
Thou should'st have longer liv'd, and to the grave
Have peacefully gone down in full old age!
Amongst the Roses
© Henry Kendall
I walked through a Forest, beneath the hot noon,
On Etheline calling and calling!
Immortality
© John Liddell Kelly
Eternal life - a river gulphed in sands!
Undying fame - a rainbow lost in clouds!
What hope of immortality remains
But this: "Some soul that loves and understands
Shall save thee from the darkness that enshrouds";
And this: "Thy blood shall course in others' veins"?
To Lorenzo
© Amelia Opie
Go, distant shores and brighter conquests seek,
But my affection will your scorn survive!
For not from radiant eyes or crimson cheek
My fondness I, or you your power derive;-
In Adoration
© Sappho
Blest as the immortal gods is he,
The youth whose eyes may look on thee,
Whose ears thy tongue's sweet melody
May still devour.
Reply to a Friend
© Mao Zedong
White clouds are sailing above the Mountain Jiuyi;
Riding the wind, the Princesses descend the green hills.
The City Tree
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
I stand within the stony, arid town,
I gaze for ever on the narrow street;
I hear for ever passing up and down,
The ceaseless tramp of feet.
Decius Brutus, On The Coast Of Portugal
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Never did Day, her heat and trouble o'er,
Proclaim herself more blest,
Than when, beside that Lusitanian shore,
She wooed herself to rest:
Written At Paris, 1700. In The Beginning Of Robe's Geography
© Matthew Prior
Then as thou wilt dispose the rest
(And let not Fortune spoil the jest)
To those who at the market-rate
Can barter honour for estate.
To A Successful Man
© Alfred Noyes
(WHAT THE GHOSTS SAID.)
And after all the labour and the pains,
After the heaping up of gold on gold,
After success that locked your feet in chains,
And left you with a heart so tired and old,
Genesis BK VIII
© Caedmon
(ll. 389-400) "But now we suffer throes of hell, fire and
darkness, bottomless and grim. God hath thrust us out into the
Le Vieux Temps
© William Henry Drummond
Venez ici, mon cher ami, an' sit down by me-so
An' I will tole you story of old tam long ago-
When An Old Man Gets To Thinking
© Edgar Albert Guest
When an old man gets to thinking of the years he's traveled through,
He hears again the laughter of the little ones he knew.
He isn't counting money, and he isn't planning schemes;
He's at home with friendly people in the shadow of his dreams.