All Poems

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The Storm

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

Within the pale blue haze above,

Some pitchy shreds took size and form,

A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet VIII

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

I will sit down awhile in dalliance
With my dead life, and dream that it is young.
My earliest memories have their home in France,
The chestnut woods of Bearn and streams among,

The Lime-tree Bower my Prison [Addressed to Charles Lamb, o

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,
This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost
Beauties and feelings, such as would have been
Most sweet to my remembrance even when age

Part of the Dialogue Between Hector and Andromache

© Samuel Johnson

She ceas'd; then godlike Hector answer'd kind -

(His various plumage sporting in the wind)

Epitaph On Two Young Men Of The Name Of Leitch, Who Were Drowned In Crossing The River Southesk, 175

© James Beattie

O thou! whose steps in sacred reverence tread

These lone dominions of the silent dead;

Time, Real And Imaginary

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

On the wide level of a mountain's head,
(I knew not where, but 'twas some faery place)
Their pinions, ostrich-like, for sails out-spread,
Two lovely children run an endless race,

The Threshold Stone

© Roderic Quinn

WHEN I went to live in the little house,
That stands on the hilltop alone,
What touched me most of all
Was neither roof nor wall,

True Philosophy

© Edgar Albert Guest

I wouldn't count it worth my while
To sing about a rich man's smile,
Or quote a fellow, trouble free,
An' label that philosophy.

The Nightingale

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.
Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!

To The River Otter

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Dear native brook! wild streamlet of the West!
How many various-fated years have passed,
What happy and what mournful hours, since last
I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast,

Here is no flower, no violet e'er so sweet,
Nor tree, nor brier, whatever charms they show, Beauty nor worth where all perfections meet,
No man, nor woman, though her fate bestow
Bright locks, fair skin, cheeks that like roses glow,
Or wise or foolish nought by nature made,
Which length of time shall age not, and degrade, But the fierce hunter death shall hold in chase, And which, when old, the world will not upbraid: Old age ends all, in youth alone is grace.

Two Visions

© Alfred Austin

The curtains of the Night were folded
Over suspended sense;
So that the things I saw were moulded
I know not how nor whence.

Sonnet: XLVI

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Even in the moment of our earliest kiss,

When sighed the straitened bud into the flower,

Human Life

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

If dead, we cease to be ; if total gloom
Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare
As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom,
Whose sound and motion not alone declare,

Ode

O tenderly the haughty day
Fills his blue urn with fire;
One morn is in the mighty heaven,
And one in our desire.

A Song

All that a man may pray,
Have I not prayed to thee?
What were praise left to say,
Has not been said by me
_O, ma mie?_

On A Mountain Top

© Alfred Noyes

On this high altar, fringed with ferns
That darken against the sky,
The dawn in lonely beauty burns
And all our evils die.

Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXV

My childhood, then, had passed a mystery
Shrouded by death, my boyhood a shut thing.
The passion of my soul as it grew free
With growing youth, a bird with broken wing,

Gratiana Dancing and Singing

See! with what constant motion
Even and glorious, as the sunne,
Gratiana steeres that noble frame,
Soft as her breast, sweet as her voyce,
That gave each winding law and poyze,
And swifter then the wings of Fame.