All Poems
/ page 2459 of 3210 /My Shy Hand
© Wilfred Owen
My shy hand shades a hermitage apart, -
O large enough for thee, and thy brief hours.
Life there is sweeter held than in God's heart,
Stiller than in the heavens of hollow flowers.
The cunnin' little thing
© Eugene Field
When baby wakes of mornings,
Then it's wake, ye people all!
For another day
Of song and play
The Erratic Rat
© Carolyn Wells
There was a ridiculous Rat
Who was awfully puffy and fat.
"I'll carry," he said,
"This plate on my head,
'Twill answer in place of a hat."
The Conversazzhony
© Eugene Field
What conversazzhyonies wuz I really did not know,
For that, you must remember, wuz a powerful spell ago;
The camp wuz new 'nd noisy, 'nd only modrit sized,
So fashionable sossiety wuz hardly crystallized.
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Nor yet in vain. For to him through the rout
Behold, 'mid herald whispers of her name
And laughing eyes and welcome hands held out,
Natalia's self behind her husband came,
The brook
© Eugene Field
I looked in the brook and saw a face -
Heigh-ho, but a child was I!
There were rushes and willows in that place,
And they clutched at the brook as the brook ran by;
Mediation
© Katharine Tynan
If Thou, Lord God, willest to judge
This, Thy very piteous clay
Which to save Christ did not grudge
His last dying, I shall say:
Lord, I interpose Christ's death
'Twixt these children and Thy wrath.
Unique Days
© Boris Pasternak
How I remember solstice days
Through many winters long completed!
Each unrepeatable, unique,
And each one countless times repeated.
The bow-leg boy
© Eugene Field
Who should come up the road one day
But the doctor-man in his two-wheel shay!
And he whoaed his horse and he cried "Ahoy!
I have brought you folks a bow-leg boy!
The Glory of Ships
© Henry Van Dyke
The glory of ships is an old, old song,
since the days when the sea-rovers ran
In their open boats through the roaring surf,
and the spread of the world began;
The glory of ships is a light on the sea,
and a star in the story of man.
The bottle tree
© Eugene Field
A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land -
Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say!
A snug little berth in that ship I demand
That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away
The Lovers Sacrifice
© Victor Marie Hugo
HERNANI. No! I will not rend
From its fair stem the flower as I descend.
Go--I have smelt its perfume. Go--resume
All that this grasp has brushed away of bloom.
Wed the old man,--believe that ne'er we met;
I seek my shade--be happy, and forget!
The Bibliomaniac's Prayer
© Eugene Field
Keep me, I pray, in wisdom's way
That I may truths eternal seek;
I need protecting care to-day,--
My purse is light, my flesh is weak.
The Bibliomaniac's Bride
© Eugene Field
The women-folk are like to books,--
Most pleasing to the eye,
Whereon if anybody looks
He feels disposed to buy.
Prometheus, Or, The Poet's Forethought. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Of Prometheus, how undaunted
On Olympus' shining bastions
His audacious foot he planted,
Myths are told and songs are chanted,
Full of promptings and suggestions.
The Bench-Legged Fyce
© Eugene Field
Speakin' of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce
Hed most o' the virtues, an' nary a vice.
Some folks called him Sooner, a name that arose
From his predisposition to chronic repose;
But, rouse his ambition, he couldn't be beat -
Yer bet yer he got thar on all his four feet!
She Came And Went
© James Russell Lowell
As a twig trembles, which a bird
Lights on to sing, then leaves unbent,
So is my memory thrilled and stirred;
I only know she came and went.
The "happy isles" of horace
© Eugene Field
Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles
In the golden haze off yonder,
Where the song of the sun-kissed breeze beguiles,
And the ocean loves to wander.
Swing high and swing low
© Eugene Field
Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow -
It's off for a sailor thy father would go;
And it's here in the harbor, in sight of the sea,