All Poems
/ page 745 of 3210 /The Real Question
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Folks is talkin' 'bout de money, 'bout de silvah an' de gold;
All de time de season 's changin' an' de days is gittin' cold.
An' dey 's wond'rin' 'bout de metals, whethah we'll have one er two.
While de price o' coal is risin' an' dey 's two months' rent dat 's due.
Love's Land
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Oh Love builds on the azure sea,
And Love builds on the golden sand,
And Love builds on the rose-winged cloud,
And sometimes Love builds on the land!
This Man Jones
© James Whitcomb Riley
This man Jones was what you'd call
A feller 'at had no sand at all;
Epitaph On Rabelais
© Jean Antoine de Baif
Pluto, bid Rabelais welcome to thy shore,
That thou, who art the king of woe and pain,
Whose subjects never learned to laugh before,
May boast a laugher in thy grim domain.
Uhland's White Stag
© Eugene Field
Frisked his heels at those huntsmen three,
Then leagues o'er hill and dale was he--
Hush, hush! Piff, bang! Tir-ril-la-loo!
Ah, Yesterday Was Dark And Drear
© Mathilde Blind
Ah, yesterday was dark and drear,
My heart was deadly sore;
Without thy love it seemed, my Dear,
That I could live no more.
Prayer For His Ladys Life
© Ezra Pound
FROM PROPERTIUS, ELEGIAE, LIB. III, 26
Here let thy clemency, Persephone, hold firm,
Do thou, Pluto, bring here no greater harshness.
So many thousand beauties are gone down to Avernus,
Ye might let one remain above with us.
Her Final Role
© Hilaire Belloc
This man's desire; that other's hopeless end;
A third's capricious tyrant: and my friend.
Starlings On The Roof
© Thomas Hardy
'No smoke spreads out of this chimney-pot,
The people who lived here have left the spot,
And others are coming who knew them not.
Our Little Needs
© Edgar Albert Guest
A LITTLE more of loving, a little less of pain,
A little more of sunshine, a little less of rain;
A little more of friendship, a little less of strife
These are what we 're wanting to make the perfect life.
L'envoi from Balladeadro
© George Gordon McCrae
See where the allied armies camped,
Where plumed and painted dancers tramped-
Fragments - Lines 1337 - 1340
© Theognis of Megara
No longer do I love a boy. I have kicked aside harsh torments;
From grievous hardships I have gladly escaped;
I am set loose from longing by fair-wreathed Kythereia.
As for you, my boy, you have no attractiveness in my eyes.
Horace I, 4.
© Eugene Field
'Tis spring! the boats bound to the sea;
The breezes, loitering kindly over
The fields, again bring herds and men
The grateful cheer of honeyed clover.
"I swear to you, Love, by your arrows"
© Gaspara Stampa
For theres a virtue born from suffering,
That dims and conquers the sense of pain,
So that its barely felt, seems scarcely hurting.
No! This, that torments soul and body again,
This is the real fear presaging my dying:
What if my fire be only straw and flame?
A Child-Savior
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
(A True Story)
SHE stood beside the iron road,
A little child of ten years old.
She heard two meeting thunders rolled
A Banjo Song
© James Weldon Johnson
W'en de banjos wuz a-ringin',
An' de darkies wuz a-singin',
Oh, wuzen dem de good times sho!
All de ole folks would be chattin',
An' de pickaninnies pattin',
As dey heah'd de feet a-shufflin' 'cross de flo'.
The Earth A Cheerless Look Still Wears
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
O soul, my soul, you slumbered too…
What is it that, your sleep disturbing,
Fills you with warmth and tender yearning
And gilds your tarnished dreams anew?
Lookin For Myself
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
You may be lookin' for me but I ain't lookin' for you
I'm still lookin' for myself and I ain't got time to look for nobody else
When I found who I am and where I am
And if you come round again maybe then baby maybe then