All Poems
/ page 712 of 3210 /City Contrasts
© Anonymous
A barefooted child on the crossing,
Sweeping the mud away,
A lady in silks and diamonds,
Proud of the vain display;
The Death And Burial Of McDonald Clarke: A Parody
© Walt Whitman
Not a sigh was heard, not a tear was shed,
As a way to the 'tombs' he was hurried,
No mother or friend held his dying head,
Or wept when the poet was buried.
Translations And Adaptations From Heine
© Ezra Pound
I
Is your hate, then, of such measure?
Do you, truly, so detest me?
Through all the world will I complain
Of how you have addressed me.
More Sonnets At Christmas II
© Allen Tate
Then hang this picture for a calendar,
As sheep for goat, and pray most fixedly
For the cold martial progress of your star,
With thoughts of commerce and society,
Well-milked Chinese, Negroes who cannot sing,
The Huns gelded and feeding in a ring.
Our Oldest Friend
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I GIVE you the health of the oldest friend
That, short of eternity, earth can lend,--
A friend so faithful and tried and true
That nothing can wean him from me and you.
The Swallow
© Charlotte Turner Smith
THE gorse is yellow on the heath,
The banks with speedwell flowers are gay,
Paradiso
© Kenneth Koch
There is no way not to be excited
When what you have been disillusioned by raises its head
Habakkuk
© Thomas Parnell
Here terrour leaves me with exalted head,
I breath fine air, and find the vision fled,
The Seer withdrawn, inspir'd, and urg'd to write,
By the warm influence of the sacred sight.
When Horace "Came Back"
© Franklin Pierce Adams
When I was your stiddy, my loveliest Lyddy,
And you my embraceable she,
In joys and diversions, the king of the Persians
Had nothing on me.
The Dark Garden
© Robert Laurence Binyon
When your head leans back slowly, and gazing eyes
Muse earnest upon mine and starry swim
With depths unfathomed that still well and rise,
And the words fail, and sight with love grows dim,
Fortune Smiles
© Thomas Dekker
Let us sing, merrily, merrily, merrily,
With our song let heaven resound,
Fortune's hands our heads have crown'd,
Let us sing merrily, merrily, merrily.
Frost Magic
© Duncan Campbell Scott
With eerie power he piles his atomies,
Incrusted gems, star-glances overborne
With lids of sleep pulled from the moth's bright eyes,
And forests of frail ferns, blanched and forlorn,
Where Oberon of unimagined size
Might in the silver silence wind his horn.
My Name Is Jacob
© John Newton
Nay, I cannot let Thee go,
Till a blessing thou bestow;
Do not turn away thy face,
Mine's an urgent pressing case.
Spring Flowers From Ireland
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
On receiving an early crocus and some violets in a letter from Ireland.
Within the letter's rustling fold
Mr. Clays Reception At Raleigh, April, 1844
© George Moses Horton
Salute the august train! a scene so grand,
With every tuneful band;
The mighty brave,
His country bound to save,
A Picture
© Frances Anne Kemble
Through the half-open'd casement stream'd the light
Of the departing sun. The golden haze
Pharsalia - Book VII: The Battle
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Then burned their souls
At these his words, indignant at the thought,
And Rome rose up within them, and to die
Was welcome.