All Poems
/ page 2085 of 3210 /Watching Unto God In The Night Season (3)
© William Cowper
Night! how I love thy silent shades,
My spirits they compose;
The bliss of heaven my soul pervades,
In spite of all my woes.
The Debate In The Sennit
© James Russell Lowell
SOT TO A NUSRY RHYME
'Here we stan' on the Constitution, by thunder!
Grabschrift Marianae Gryphiae,
© Andreas Gryphius
Geboren in der Flucht, umringt mit Schwert und Brand,
Schier in dem Rauch erstickt, der Mutter herbes Pfand,
Rondel
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THESE many years since we began to be,
What have the gods done with us? what with me,
What with my love? they have shown me fates and fears,
Harsh springs, and fountains bitterer than the sea,
Grief a fixed star, and joy a vane that veers,
These many years.
A flame is in my blood
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
A flame is in my blood
burning dry life, to the bone.
I do not sing of stone,
now, I sing of wood.
Reading Laozi
© Bai Juyi
Those who speak do not know, those who know are silent,
I heard this saying from the old gentleman.
If the old gentleman was one who knew the way,
Why did he feel able to write five thousand words?
Daddy What If?
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
(Daddy what if the sun stop shinin' what would happen then?)
If the sun stopped shinin' you'd be so surprised
The Wreck Of The Birkenhead,
© Frances Anne Kemble
As well as I am able, I'll relate how it befell,
And I trust, sirs, you'll excuse me, if I do not speak it well.
I've lived a hard and wandering life, serving our gracious Queen,
And have nigh forgot my schooling since a soldier I have been.
Lynchers
© Madison Julius Cawein
At the moon's down-going let it be
On the quarry hill with its one gnarled tree.
The Crow
© Virna Sheard
Hail, little herald!--Art thou then returning
From summer lands, this wild and wind-torn day?
Hast brought the word for which our hearts are yearning,
That spring is on the way?
Hark! Now there comes a clear, insistent calling,
My Love, She's But A Lassie Yet
© Robert Burns
My love, she's but a lassie yet,
My love, she's but a lassie yet!
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
She'll no be half sae saucy yet!
To His Verse
© Robert Herrick
What will ye, my poor orphans, do,
When I must leave the world and you;
Baucis And Philemon
© Jonathan Swift
IN ancient times, as story tells,
The saints would often leave their cells,
And stroll about, but hide their quality,
To try good people's hospitality.
Psalm LXXXVI. (86)
© John Milton
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
Davy Jones' Door-Bell
© Vachel Lindsay
A Chant for Boys with Manly Voices
(Every line sung one step deeper than the line preceding)
The Good Of It
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SOME men strut proudly, all purple and gold,
Hiding queer deeds 'neath a cloak of good fame;
I creep along, braving hunger and cold,
To keep my heart stainless as well as my name;
So, so, where is the good of it?
Horatian Lyrics Odes I, 11.
© Eugene Field
What end the gods may have ordained for me,
And what for thee,
Seek not to learn, Leuconoe; we may not know;
Chaldean tables cannot bring us rest--
'Tis for the best
To bear in patience what may come, or weal or woe.
by William Shakespeare">Sonnet 128: "How oft when thou, my music, music play'st,..."
© William Shakespeare
How oft when thou, my music, music play'st,
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds