All Poems
/ page 727 of 3210 /Theyre Coming Back
© Edgar Albert Guest
THEY 'RE coming home Thanksgiving Day,
They 're coming back once more,
Dialogue Lucasta, Alexis
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Lucasta.
TELL me, ALEXIS, what this parting is,
That so like dying is, but is not it?
The Poet's Death
© John Clare
The world is taking little heed
And plods from day to day:
The vulgar flourish like a weed,
The learned pass away.
Psalm I.
© Henry King
The man is blest whose feet not tread,
By wicked counsailes led:
Nor stands in that perverted way,
In which the Sinners stray;
Half An Hour Before Supper
© Francis Bret Harte
"So she's here, your unknown Dulcinea, the lady you met on the train,
And you really believe she would know you if you were to meet her
again?"
"In the stump of the old tree..."
© Hugh Sykes Davies
In the stump of the old tree, where the heart has rotted out, there is a hole the length of a man's arm, and a dank pool at the bottom of it where the rain gathers, and the old leaves turn into lacy skeletons. But do not put your hand down to see, because
in the stumps of old trees, where the hearts have rotted out, there are holes the length of a man's arm, and dank pools at the bottom where the rain gathers and old leaves turn to lace, and the beak of a dead bird gapes like a trap. But do not put your hand down to see, because
Poem
© Rene Daumal
One cannot stay on the summit forever -
One has to come down again.
So why bother in the first place? Just this.
What is above knows what is below -
But what is below does not know what is above
Celestial Heights
© Alfred Austin
Hail! steep ascents and winding ways,
Glimmering through melting morning haze,
Hail! mountain herd-bells chiming clear!
Hail! meads and cherry-orchards green,
And hail, thrice hail! thou golden mean,
The châlet's simple cheer!
Sonnet XXXVIII: The Morrow's Message
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Thou Ghost, I said, and is thy name To-day?
Yesterday's son, with such an abject brow!
The Chain Gang
© John Le Gay Brereton
Borne in the car along a crowded way,
Sun-soaked, I saw the world like shadows glide,
A True Account of the Birth and Conception of a Late Famous Poem call'd The Female Nine
© Charles Sackville
When Monmouth the chaste read those impudent lines
Which ty'd her dear monkey so fast by the loins,
Revenge
© Edgar Albert Guest
If I had hatred in my heart toward my fellow man,
If I were pressed to do him ill, to conjure up a plan
To wound him sorely and to rob his days of all their joy,
I'd wish his wife would go away and take their little boy.
At The Sheep-Dog Trials
© David Campbell
What ancestors unite
Here in this red and white
Kelpie to define
His symmetry of line,
Staffa
© John Keats
Not Aladdin magian
Ever such a work began;
Not the wizard of the Dee
Ever such a dream could see;
The Swimmer
© John Crowe Ransom
IN dog-days plowmen quit their toil,
And frog-ponds in the meadow boil,
And grasses on the upland broil,
And all the coiling things uncoil,
And eggs and meats and Christians spoil.
My God, Thy Suppliant Hear
© George Sandys
My God, thy suppliant hear:
Afford a gentle ear:
For I am comfortless,
And labour in distress.
Shall Earth no more inspire thee
© Emily Jane Brontë
Shall Earth no more inspire thee,
Thou lonely dreamer now?
Since passion may not fire thee
Shall Nature cease to bow?