All Poems

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Dulce Ridentem

© Stephen Vincent Benet

The bee, he has white honey,

The Sunday child her muff,

The Banks Of Wye - Book IV

© Robert Bloomfield

Here ivy'd fragments, lowering, throw
Broad shadows on the poor below,
Who, while they rest, and when they die,
Sleep on the rock-built shores of WYE.

Fences by Pat Mora: American Life in Poetry #192 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

Class, status, privilege; despite all our talk about equality, they're with us wherever we go. In this poem, Pat Mora, who grew up in a Spanish speaking home in El Paso, Texas, contrasts the lives of rich tourists with the less fortunate people who serve them. The titles of poems are often among the most important elements, and this one is loaded with implication. Fences

Mouths full of laughter,
the turistas come to the tall hotel
with suitcases full of dollars.

The Gloomy Night Is Gath'ring Fast

© Robert Burns

The gloomy night is gath'ring fast,

Loud roars the wild inconstant blast;

Upon a Table-Book presented to a Lady

© Henry King

VVhen your fair hand receives this little book
You must not there for prose or verses look.
Those empty regions which within you see,
May by your self planted and peopled be:

Jealousy

© Rupert Brooke

When I see you, who were so wise and cool,

Gazing with silly sickness on that fool

A wild sea

© Matsuo Basho

A wild sea-
In the distance over Sado
The Milky Way

From The Sunshine of the Gods

© James Bayard Taylor

AH, moment not to be purchased,

Not to be won by prayer,

The Altar

© Ezra Pound

Let us build here an exquisite friendship,
The flame, the autumn, and the green rose of love
Fought out their strife here, 'tis a place of wonder;
Where these have been, meet 'tis, the ground is holy.