All Poems

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When Pa Comes Home

© Edgar Albert Guest

When Pa comes home, I'm at the door,

An' then he grabs me off the floor

My Springs

© Sidney Lanier

In the heart of the Hills of Life, I know
Two springs that with unbroken flow
Forever pour their lucent streams
Into my soul's far Lake of Dreams.

Once More I Put My Bonnet On

© Joseph Howe

A finer form, a fairer face
Ne'er bent before the stole,
With more restraint, no spotless lace
Did firmer orbs control,
I shine, the Beauty of the place,
And yet I look all soul.

Written for the "Martha Washington Court Journal".Down cold snow-stretches of our bitter time,
When windy shams and the rain-mocking sleet
Of Trade have cased us in such icy rime
That hearts are scarcely hot enough to beat,

Sad Song

© Rahel Bluwstein

Do you hear me, you who are
So far away from me, my dear?
Do you hear me crying aloud,
Wishing you were well, wishing you were near?

Marsh Hymns

© Sidney Lanier

Were silver pink, and had a soul,
Which soul were shy, which shyness might
A visible influence be, and roll
Through heaven and earth -- 'twere thou, O light!

The Farm Child's Lullaby

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

OH, the little bird is rocking in the cradle of the wind,

And it's bye, my little wee one, bye;

Laus Mariae

© Sidney Lanier

Across the brook of Time man leaping goes
On stepping-stones of epochs, that uprise
Fixed, memorable, midst broad shallow flows
Of neutrals, kill-times, sleeps, indifferencies.

A Twilight Moth

© Madison Julius Cawein

Dusk is thy dawn; when Eve puts on its state

Of gold and purple in the marbled west,

Laughter In The Senate

© Sidney Lanier

In the South lies a lonesome, hungry Land;
He huddles his rags with a cripple's hand;
He mutters, prone on the barren sand,
What time his heart is breaking.

June Dreams, In January

© Sidney Lanier

"So pulse, and pulse, thou rhythmic-hearted Noon
That liest, large-limbed, curved along the hills,
In languid palpitation, half a-swoon
With ardors and sun-loves and subtle thrills;

Little Major

© Henry Clay Work

Crying "Oh! for love of Jesus,
Grant me but this little boon!
Can you, friend, refuse me water?
Can you, when I die so soon?"

Jones's Porvate Argyment

© Sidney Lanier

That air same Jones, which lived in Jones,
He had this pint about him:
He'd swear with a hundred sighs and groans,
That farmers MUST stop gittin' loans,
And git along without 'em:

Delos

Though Syra's rock was passed at morn,
The wind so faintly arched the sail,
That ere to Delos we were borne,
The autumn day began to fail,
And only in Diana's smiles
We reached the bay between the isles.

Ireland.

Heartsome Ireland, winsome Ireland,
Charmer of the sun and sea,
Bright beguiler of old anguish,
How could Famine frown on thee?

A Song For Labor

I.

Oh, the morning meads, the dewy meads,

In The Foam.

Life swelleth in a whitening wave,
And dasheth thee and me apart.
I sweep out seaward: -- be thou brave.
And reach the shore, Sweetheart.

I.The storm that snapped our fate's one ship in twain
Hath blown my half o' the wreck from thine apart.
O Love! O Love! across the gray-waved main
To thee-ward strain my eyes, my arms, my heart.