All Poems

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The Legend Of The Horseshoe.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

WHAT time our Lord still walk'd the earth,
Unknown, despised, of humble birth,
And on Him many a youth attended
(His words they seldom comprehended),

To My Sister

© William Wordsworth

IT is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.

What Is Pink?

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

What is pink? a rose is pink
By the fountain's brink.
What is red? a poppy's red
In its barley bed.

The Sense Of The Sleight-Of-Hand Man

© Wallace Stevens

One's grand flights, one's Sunday baths,
One's tootings at the weddings of the soul
Occur as they occur. So bluish clouds
Occurred above the empty house and the leaves

Thorkilds Song

© Rudyard Kipling

There´s no wind along these seas,
Out oars for Stavanger!
Forward all for Stavanger!
So we must wake the white-ash breeze.
Let fall for Stavanger!
A long pull for Stavanger!

Continual Conversation With A Silent Man

© Wallace Stevens

The old brown hen and the old blue sky,
Between the two we live and die--
The broken cartwheel on the hill.

It's September, and the orchards are afire with red and gold,
And the nights with dew are heavy, and the morning's sharp with cold;
Now the garden's at its gayest with the salvia blazing red
And the good old-fashioned asters laughing at us from their bed;
Once again in shoes and stockings are the children's little feet,
And the dog now does his snoozing on the bright side of the street.

Nomad Exquisite

© Wallace Stevens

As the immense dew of Florida
Brings forth
The big-finned palm
And green vine angering for life,

At Darien Bridge

© James Dickey

Standing deep in their ankle chains,
Ankle-deep in the water, to smite

Bantams In Pine-Woods

© Wallace Stevens

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
Of tan with henna hackles, halt!Damned universal cock, as if the sun
Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.
Your world is you. I am my world.You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!

The River Of Rivers In Connecticut

© Wallace Stevens

There is a great river this side of Stygia
Before one comes to the first black cataracts
And trees that lack the intelligence of trees.

Old Age

© Arthur Symons

It may be, when this city of the nine gates

Is broken down by ruinous old age,

The Vision of Don Roderick

© Sir Walter Scott

Introduction.

I.

The Well Dressed Man With A Beard

© Wallace Stevens

After the final no there comes a yes
And on that yes the future world depends.
No was the night. Yes is this present sun.
If the rejected things, the things denied,

We Sate Down And Wept By The Waters

I.
We sate down and wept by the waters
Of Babel, and thought of the day
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters,

A New John Bull

© Henry Lawson

A tall, slight, English gentleman,

With an eyeglass to his eye;

Gray Room

Although you sit in a room that is gray,
Except for the silver
Of the straw-paper,
And pick

To An Aeolian Harp

The winds have grown articulate in thee,
And voiced again the wail of ancient woe
That smote upon the winds of long ago:
The cries of Trojan women as they flee,

Peter Quince At The Clavier

Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,