All Poems
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The Other World
© Harriet Beecher Stowe
It lies around us like a cloud,
A world we do not see;
Yet the sweet closing of an eye
May bring us there to be.
Had You Wept
© Thomas Hardy
Had you wept; had you but neared me with a frail uncertain ray,
Dewy as the face of the dawn, in your large and luminous eye,
Into My Own
© Robert Frost
One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto th eedge of doom.
Love and a Question
© Robert Frost
Within, the bride in the dusk alone
Bent over the open fire,
Her face rose-red with the glowing coal
And the thought of the heart's desire.
World's Worth
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
'TIS of the Father Hilary.
He strove, but could not pray; so took
A Girl's Garden
© Robert Frost
A NEIGHBOR of mine in the village
Likes to tell how one spring
When she was a girl on the farm, she did
A childlike thing.
Hay-Carren
© William Barnes
'Tis merry ov a zummer's day,
When vo'k be out a-haulèn hay,
Where boughs, a-spread upon the ground,
Do meäke the staddle big an' round;
Hyla Brook
© Robert Frost
By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
A Question.
© Arthur Henry Adams
AND so in the death-darkened chamber they met,
The woman that once he had loved and the one he loved yet
The wife who had warped his desire and the woman he could not forget.
They stood by the bier where between them he slept,
Design
© Robert Frost
What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.
The Silken Tent
© Robert Frost
She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when the sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
The Protest
© James Russell Lowell
I could not bear to see those eyes
On all with wasteful largess shine,
The Rose Family
© Robert Frost
The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
Elegy XIX
© John Donne
Whoever loves, if he do not propose
The right true end of love, he's one that goes
Putting in the Seed
© Robert Frost
You come to fetch me from my work to-night
When supper's on the table, and we'll see
If I can leave off burying the white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree
Invita Minerva
© James Russell Lowell
The Bardling came where by a river grew
The pennoned reeds, that, as the west-wind blew,
Gleamed and sighed plaintively, as if they knew
What music slept enchanted in each stem,
Till Pan should choose some happy one of them,
And with wise lips enlife it through and through.
After Apple-Picking
© Robert Frost
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
The Daft-days
© Robert Fergusson
Now mirk December's dowie face
Glours our the rigs wi' sour grimace,
While, thro' his minimum of space,
The bleer-ey'd sun
Wi' blinkin light and stealing pace,
His race doth run.
