All Poems
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The Recalcitrants
© Thomas Hardy
Let us off and search, and find a place
Where yours and mine can be natural lives,
Where no one comes who dissects and dives
And proclaims that ours is a curious case,
That its touch of romance can scarcely grace.
Spirit Whose Work Is Done
© Walt Whitman
SPIRIT whose work is done! spirit of dreadful hours!
Ere, departing, fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets;
The Princess: A Medley: Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal
© Alfred Tennyson
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.
Dives In Torment
© Robert Norwood
THIS was my failure, who thought that the feast
Rivalled the rapture of bird on the wing;
Rivalled the lily all robed like a priest;
Smoke of the pollen when Rose-censers swing.
Student-Song
© John Hay
When Youth's warm heart beats high, my friend,
And Youth's blue sky is bright,
The Peace of God
© John Le Gay Brereton
So, in the bitter years when love and age
Sneered at the youth whose sturdy heart withheld
His hand from slaughter, till, in desperate plight,
He flung into the trampling equipage,
I have heard him mutter, as the music swelled,
The peace of God is on me. They were right.
Your Hand
© Paul Celan
Your Hand full of Hours, you came to me and I said:
Your Hair is not brown.
So you lifted it, lightly, onto the Balance of Grief, it was
Heavier than I
A Memory (From A Sonnet- Sequence)
© Rupert Brooke
Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept
Softly along the dim way to your room,
The Hands That Hang Down
© Ada Cambridge
O Lord, I am so tired!
My heart is sick and sore.
I work, and work, and do no good-
And I can try no more!
A Poem. For the AMA at New York, 1853
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FOR THE MEETING OF THE AMERICAN MEDICAL ASSOCIATION
AT NEW YORK, MAY 5, 1853
'Broken Axletree'
© Henry Lawson
Oh, the pub at Devils Crossing! and the woman that he sent!
And the hell for which we bartered horse and trap and traps and tent!
And the black Since Thenthe chances that we never more may see
Ah! the two lives that were ruined for a broken axletree!
The Duellist - Book I
© Charles Churchill
The clock struck twelve; o'er half the globe
Darkness had spread her pitchy robe:
Another Fan
© Stéphane Mallarme
Dear dreamer, help me to take off
Into my pathless, pure delight,
By always holding in your glove
My wing, a thin pretence of flight.
Elegy II. On The Death Of The University Beadle At Cambridge (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Thee, whose refulgent staff and summons clear,
Minerva's flock longtime was wont t'obey,
Although thyself an herald, famous here,
The last of heralds, Death, has snatch'd away.
He calls on all alike, nor even deigns
To spare the office that himself sustains.
Moonrise in the Rockies
© Ella Higginson
The trembling train clings to the leaning wall
Of solid stone; a thousand feet below
Sinks a black gulf; the sky hangs like a pall
Upon the peaks of everlasting snow.
On The Pilots Who Destroyed Germany In The Spring Of 1945
© Stephen Spender
I stood on a roof top and they wove their cage
Their murmuring throbbing cage, in the air of blue crystal.
I saw them gleam above the town like diamond bolts
Conjoining invisible struts of wire,
Carrying through the sky their geometric cage
Woven by senses delicate as a shoal of flashing fish.
The Heart of the Swag
© Henry Lawson
Oh, the track through the scrub groweth ever more dreary,
And lower and lower his grey head doth bow;
