All Poems
/ page 2299 of 3210 /A Daffodil
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Pure--throated Flower,
Smelling of Spring,
Shaped beyond art's
Imagining;
Curse of the Cat Woman
© Edward Field
It sometimes happens
that the woman you meet and fall in love with
is of that strange Transylvanian people
with an affinity for cats.
Frankenstein
© Edward Field
The monster has escaped from the dungeon
where he was kept by the Baron,
who made him with knobs sticking out from each side of his neck
where the head was attached to the body
and stitching all over
where parts of cadavers were sewed together.
Rule, Britannia! (With Variations)
© James Thomson
When Britain first, at heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian Angels sung this strain:
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.
Unwanted
© Edward Field
The poster with my picture on it
Is hanging on the bulletin board in the Post Office.I stand by it hoping to be recognized
Posing first full face and then profileBut everybody passes by and I have to admit
The photograph was taken some years ago.I was unwanted then and I'm unwanted now
Forest Quiet
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
SO deep this sylvan silence, strange and sweet,
Its dryad-guardian, virginal Peace, can hear
The pulses of her own pure bosom beat;
The Farewell
© Edward Field
They say the ice will hold
so there I go,
forced to believe them by my act of trusting people,
stepping out on it,
The Vanishing Red
© Robert Frost
Some guttural exclamation of surprise
The Red man gave in poking about the mill
Over the great big thumping shuffling millstone
Disgusted the Miller physically as coming
From one who had no right to be heard from.
'Come, John,' he said, 'you want to see the wheel-pint?'
Sonnet To Beauty
© Allen Tate
The wonder of light is your familiar tale,
Pert wench, down to the nineteenth century:
The Valley's Singing Day
© Robert Frost
The sound of the closing outside door was all.
You made no sound in the grass with your footfall,
As far as you went from the door, which was not far;
But had awakened under the morning star
The Star-Splitter
© Robert Frost
We've looked and looked, but after all where are we?
Do we know any better where we are,
And how it stands between the night tonight
And a man with a smoky lantern chimney?
How different from the way it ever stood?
The Kitchen Chimney
© Robert Frost
Builder, in building the little house,
In every way you may please yourself;
But please please me in the kitchen chimney:
Don't build me a chimney upon a shelf.
At The Base Hospital
© George Essex Evans
The willows sweep the water, and the rushes lean a-down,
And I see the river shining far away,
The Grindstone
© Robert Frost
Having a wheel and four legs of its own
Has never availed the cumbersome grindstone
To get it anywhere that I can see.
These hands have helped it go, and even race;
The Generations of Men
© Robert Frost
A governor it was proclaimed this time,
When all who would come seeking in New Hampshire
Ancestral memories might come together.
And those of the name Stark gathered in Bow,
Seed-Time And Harvest
© Ada Cambridge
Fret not thyself so sorely, heart of mine,
For that the pain hath roughly broke thy rest,-
That thy wild flowers lie dead upon thy breast,
Whereon the cloud-veiled sun hath ceased to shine.
The Flower Boat
© Robert Frost
The fisherman's swapping a yarn for a yarn
Under the hand of the village barber,
And her in the angle of house and barn
His deep-sea dory has found a harbor.
The Vain Spell
© Edith Nesbit
THE house sleeps dark and the moon wakes white,
The fields are alight with dew;
The Cocoon
© Robert Frost
As far as I can see this autumn haze
That spreading in the evening air both way,
Makes the new moon look anything but new,
And pours the elm-tree meadow full of blue,
The Vision Of The Archangels
© Rupert Brooke
They then from the sheer summit cast, and watched it fall,
Through unknown glooms, that frail black coffin - and therein
God's little pitiful Body lying, worn and thin,
And curled up like some crumpled, lonely flower-petal -
Till it was no more visible; then turned again
With sorrowful quiet faces downward to the plain.