All Poems
/ page 733 of 3210 /An Authors Hope
© Hilaire Belloc
When I am dead, I hope it may be said:
His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.
Ke Saawan Aaya {Rains Have Come}
© Amir Khusro
Amman meray baba ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera baba to boodha ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Amman meray bhai ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera bhai to baala ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Amman meray mamu ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera mamu to baanka ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Ghost Of The Beautiful Past
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Ghost of the beautiful past, of the days long gone, of a queen, of a fair sweet woman.
Ghost with the passionate eyes, how proud, yet not too proud to have wept, to have loved, since to love is human.
Angel in fair white garments, with skirts of lawn, by the autumn wind on the pathway fluttered,
Always close by the castle wall and about to speak. But the whisper dies on her lips unuttered.
Gratefulnesse
© George Herbert
Thou that hast giv'n so much to me,
Give one thing more, a grateful heart.
See how thy beggar works on thee
By art.
Smoke
© George MacDonald
Lord, I have laid my heart upon thy altar
But cannot get the wood to burn;
It hardly flares ere it begins to falter
And to the dark return.
Nothin' To Say
© James Whitcomb Riley
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
Gyrls that's in love, I've noticed, ginerly has their way!
Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me--
Yit here I am, and here you air; and yer mother--where is she?
The four Monarchyes, the Assyrian being the first, beginning under Nimrod, 131. Years after the Floo
© Anne Bradstreet
When time was young, & World in Infancy,
Man did not proudly strive for Soveraignty:
Somewhere Up In Queensland
© Henry Lawson
He's somewhere up in Queensland,
The old folks used to say;
juz teray koi bhi
© Ahmad Faraz
juz teray koi bhi din raat na janay meray
tu kahaN hai magr Ah dost puranay meray
Dramatic Fragment
© Henry Timrod
Let the boy have his will! I tell thee, brother,
We treat these little ones too much like flowers,
On The Sea's Bosom
© Swami Vivekananda
In blue sky floats a multitude of clouds --
White, black, of many shades and thicknesses;
An orange sun, about to say farewell,
Touches the massed cloud-shapes with streaks of red.
The Nobly Born
© James Russell Lowell
Who counts himself as nobly born
Is noble in despite of place;
And honors are but brands to one
Who wears them not with nature's grace.
In The Mission Garden
© Francis Bret Harte
I speak not the English well, but Pachita,
She speak for me; is it not so, my Pancha?
Eh, little rogue? Come, salute me the stranger
Americano.
Hoodoo
© Madison Julius Cawein
She mutters and stoops by the lone bayou--
The little green leaves are hushed on the trees--
Song
© William Cullen Bryant
Dost thou idly ask to hear
At what gentle seasons
Nymphs relent, when lovers near
Press the tenderest reasons?
Haven Woones Fortune A-Twold
© William Barnes
In leäne the gipsies, as we went
A-milkèn, had a-pitch'd their tent,
The Two Wives
© William Dean Howells
THE COLONEL rode by his picket-line
In the pleasant morning sun,
That glanced from him far off to shine
On the crouching rebel pickets gun.
From "Hugh Selwyn Mauberley" (June 1920)
© Ezra Pound
IV
These fought in any case,
and some believing,
pro domo, in any case