All Poems
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A Superscription
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise
Of that wing'd Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,--
Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart
Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.
For What She Had Done
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
She had to die.
This Omoo knew.
He also knew he could not kill her.
Not even try to kill her.
Frank Little At Calvary
© Lola Ridge
Life thunders on…
Over the black bridge
The line of lighted cars
Creeps like a monstrous serpent
Spooring gold…
The Mediterranean
© Allen Tate
Where we went in the boat was a long bay
A slingshot wide, walled in by towering stone
Peaked margin of antiquity's delay,
And we went there out of time's monotone:
A Garden Song
© Henry Austin Dobson
HERE in this sequester'd close
Bloom the hyacinth and rose,
Here beside the modest stock
Flaunts the flaring hollyhock;
Here, without a pang, one sees
Ranks, conditions, and degrees.
Today's News by David Tucker: American Life in Poetry #156 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
We greatly appreciate your newspaper's use of this column, and today we want to recognize newspaper employees by including a poem from the inside of a newsroom. David Tucker is deputy managing editor of the New Jersey âStar-Ledgerâ? and has been a reporter and editor at the âToronto Starâ? and the âPhiladelphia Inquirer.â? He was on the âStar-Ledgerâ? team that won the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for breaking news. Mr. Tucker was awarded a Witter-Bynner fellowship for poetry in 2007 by former U. S. Poet Laureate, Donald Hall.
Today's News
Sonnet On Receiving A Gift
© Thomas Hood
Look how the golden ocean shines above
Its pebbly stones, and magnifies their girth;
So does the bright and blessed light of Love
Its own things glorify, and raise their worth.
Charles VII And Joan Of Arc At Rheims
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
A glorious pageant filled the church of the proud old city of Rheims,
One such as poet artists choose to form their loftiest themes:
There France beheld her proudest sons grouped in a glittering ring,
To place the crown upon the brow of their now triumphant king.
Songs of the Voices of Birds: The Warbling of Blackbirds
© Jean Ingelow
When I hear the waters fretting,
When I see the chestnut letting
All her lovely blossom falter down, I think, “Alas the day!”
Once with magical sweet singing,
Blackbirds set the woodland ringing,
That awakes no more while April hours wear themselves away.
The Shepheardes Calender: May
© Edmund Spenser
May: AEgloga Quinta. Palinode & Piers.
Palinode.
IS not thilke the mery moneth of May,
When loue lads masken in fresh aray?
The Brus Book XIX
© John Barbour
[The conspiracy against King Robert; its discovery]
Than wes the land a quhile in pes,
On Our Eleventh Anniversary by Susan Browne : American Life in Poetry #214 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La
© Ted Kooser
Sometimes I wonder at my wife's forbearance. She's heard me tell the same stories dozens of times, and she still politely laughs when she should. Here's a poem by Susan Browne, of California, that treats an oft-told story with great tenderness.
On Our Eleventh Anniversary
You're telling that story again about your childhood,
Recollections Of Love
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
How warm this woodland wild Recess!
Love surely hath been breathing here;
And this sweet bed of heath, my dear!
Swells up, then sinks with faint caress,
As if to have you yet more near.
First Sunday In Lent
© John Keble
"Angel of wrath! why linger in mid-air,
While the devoted city's cry
He Mourned His Master
© Henry Lawson
But soon their forms had vanished all,
And night came down the ranges faster,
And no one saw the shadows fall
Upon the dog that mourned his master.
The First Fan
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHEN rose the cry "Great Pan is dead!"
And Jove's high palace closed its portal,
The fallen gods, before they fled,
Sold out their frippery to a mortal.
All-Saints' Day (1868)
© Ada Cambridge
Never to weary more, nor suffer sorrow,-
Their strife all over, and their work all done:
At peace-and only waiting for the morrow;
Heaven's rest and rapture even now begun.
Beaumont and Fletcher:IV
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
AN HOUR ere sudden sunset fired the west,
Arose two stars upon the pale deep east.
Epilogue--To The Poet's Sitter
© Francis Thompson
Wherein he excuseth himself for the manner of the Portrait.
