All Poems

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The Census-Taker

© Robert Frost

I came an errand one cloud-blowing evening
To a slab-built, black-paper-covered house
Of one room and one window and one door,
The only dwelling in a waste cut over

The moon is bright, and the winds are laid, and the river is roaring by;
Orion swings, with his belted lights low down in the western sky;
North and south from the mountain gorge to the heart of the silver plain
Theres many an eye will see no sleep till the east grows bright again;

The Ax-Helve

© Robert Frost

I've known ere now an interfering branch
Of alder catch my lifted ax behind me.
But that was in the woods, to hold my hand
From striking at another alder's roots,

Epilogue - To the Tragedy of Cleone

© William Shenstone

Well, Ladies-so much for the tragic style-

And now the custom is to make you smile.

Plowmen

© Robert Frost

A plow, they say, to plow the snow.
They cannot mean to plant it, no--
Unless in bitterness to mock
At having cultivated rock.

The Man with Night Sweats

© Thom Gunn

I wake up cold, I who
Prospered through dreams of heat
Wake to their residue,
Sweat, and a clinging sheet.

Place for a Third

© Robert Frost

She gave it through the screen door closed between them:
"No, not with John. There wouldn't be no sense.
Eliza's had too many other men."

To Two Sisters - On The Death Of A Younger Sister

© Samuel Rogers

Well may you sit within, and, fond of grief,
Look in each other's face, and melt in tears;
Well may you shun all counsel, all relief -
Oh she was great in mind, tho' young in years!

Our Singing Strength

© Robert Frost

Well, something for a snowstorm to have shown
The country's singing strength thus brought together,
the thought repressed and moody with the weather
Was none the less there ready to be freed
And sing the wildflowers up from root and seed.

One Summer Morning

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

IT is but a little while ago:
The elm-leaves have scarcely begun to drop away;
The sunbeams strike the elm-trunk just where they struck that day--
Yet all seems to have happened long ago.

On Going Unnoticed

© Robert Frost

As vain to raise a voice as a sigh
In the tumult of free leaves on high.
What are you in the shadow of trees
Engaged up there with the light and breeze?

Open House

© Theodore Roethke

My secrets cry aloud.
I have no need for tongue.
My heart keeps open house,
My doors are widely swung.
An epic of the eyes
My love, with no disguise.

Not To Keep

© Robert Frost

They sent him back to her. The letter came
Saying... And she could have him. And before
She could be sure there was no hidden ill
Under the formal writing, he was in her sight,

Epistle To Mrs Teresa Blount.[On Her Leaving The Town After The Coronation]

© Alexander Pope

As some fond virgin, whom her mother's care

Drags from the town to wholesome country air,

In the Home Stretch

© Robert Frost

Never was I beladied so before.
Would evidence of having been called lady
More than so many times make me a lady
In common law, I wonder.

On My Right

© Paul Celan

The Wandering-Sickles in extra-
heavenly Place
mime themselves grey-white
Moon-Swallows, together,
Star-Swifts,

II. The Pauper Witch of Grafton

© Robert Frost

Now that they've got it settled whose I be,
I'm going to tell them something they won't like:
They've got it settled wrong, and I can prove it.
Flattered I must be to have two towns fighting

The World

© John Newton

See, the world for youth prepares,
Harlot-like, her gaudy snares!
Pleasures round her seem to wait,
But 'tis all a painted cheat.

A Hundred Collars

© Robert Frost

Lancaster bore him--such a little town,
Such a great man. It doesn't see him often
Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead
And sends the children down there with their mother