All Poems
/ page 732 of 3210 /
Eine Gesundheit
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Trinket Brueder, lasst uns trinken
Bis wir berauscht zu Boden sinken;
Doch bittet Gott den Herren,
Dass Koenige nicht trinken.
Pretence. Part II - The Library
© John Kenyon
From such a world, all touch, all ear, all eye,
What marvel, then, if proud Abstraction fly;
Amid Hercynian shades pursue his theme,
And leave the land of Locke to gold and steam?
Dreams
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
By the hut, left by people and heaven,
Where the fences black remnants are steeping,
The ragged beggar and black old raven,
Were discussing the dreams of the sleeping.
Song Of The Rose
© Sappho
For Zeus chose us a King of the flowers in his mirth,
He would call to the rose, and would royally crown it;
For the rose, ho, the rose! is the grace of the earth,
Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it!
Girl At Her Devotions. By Newton
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
SHE was just risen from her bended knee,
But yet peace seem'd not with her piety;
The Price Of Riches
© Edgar Albert Guest
Nobody stops at the rich man's door to pass the time of day.
Nobody shouts a "hello!" to him in the good old-fashioned way.
Ode To A Mountain-Torrent (From The German Of Stolberg)
© George Borrow
How lovely art thou in thy tresses of foam,
And yet the warm blood in my bosom grows chill,
When yelling thou rollest thee down from thy home,
Mid the boom of the echoing forest and hill.
Homage To Sextus Propertius - VII
© Ezra Pound
While our fates twine together, sate we our eyes with love;
For long night comes upon you
and a day when no day returns.
Let the gods lay chains upon us
so that no day shall unbind them.
The Gypsy Star
© Margaret Widdemer
There were seven shining stars that swung above my cradle
(She never was kind to me, Diana our Lady the Moon!)
Ballade Of The Dead Cities
© Andrew Lang
Prince, all thy towns and cities must
Decay as these, till all their crime,
And mirth, and wealth, and toil are thrust
Where are the cities of old time.
The City
© Archibald Lampman
Beyond the dusky corn-fields, toward the west,
Dotted with farms, beyond the shallow stream,
With My Swag All On My Shoulder
© Anonymous
With my swag on my shoulder,
black billy in my hand,
I traveled the bush of Australia
like a true born native man.
Time is a Fading-flowre, that's found
© George Wither
Five Termes, there be, which five I doe apply
To all, that was, and is, and shall be done.
The first, and last, is that ETERNITIE,
The Lament For Shuil Donalds Daughter
© Caroline Norton
I.
IN old Shuil Donald's cottage there are many voices weeping,
And stifled sobs, and murmurings of sorrow wild and vain,
For the old man's cherish'd blessing on her bed of death lies sleeping,--
I Am With Terrorism
© Nizar Qabbani
We are accused of terrorism:
if we wrote about the ruins of a homeland
torn, weak...
a homeland with no address
and an nation with no names
