All Poems
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In The Winter
© George MacDonald
In the winter, flowers are springing;
In the winter, woods are green,
A Wreath Of Sonnets (9/14)
© France Preseren
They were all fed on many a plaint and tear
The humble blooms on my Parnassus grown;
My tears of love flowed not for you alone,
But also for the land I hold so dear.
Thoughts Fer The Discuraged Farmer
© James Whitcomb Riley
The summer winds is sniffin' round the bloomin'
locus' trees;
The Elm
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O that I had a tongue, that could express
Half of that peace thou ownest, darkling Tree!
A slumber, shaded with the heaviness
That droops thy leaves, hangs deeply over me.
Hunger
© Gamaliel Bradford
I love to wander widely, but I understand a cell,
Where you tell and tell your beads because you've
nothing else to tell,
Where the crimson joy of flesh, with all its wild
fantastic tricks,
Is forgotten in the blinding glory of the crucifix.
The Fishermen
© John Greenleaf Whittier
HURRAH! the seaward breezes
Sweep down the bay amain;
Heave up, my lads, the anchor!
Run up the sail again!
Nothing Is Enough!
© Robert Laurence Binyon
No, though our all be spent-
Heart's extremest love,
Spirit's whole intent,
All that nerve can feel,
The Rosy Bosomd Hours
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
A florin to the willing Guard
Secured, for half the way,
Juliet's Soliloquy
© William Shakespeare
Farewell!--God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins
The Family Doctor
© Edgar Albert Guest
I've tried the high-toned specialists, who doctor folks to-day;
I've heard the throat man whisper low "Come on now let us spray";
The Poor House
© Sara Teasdale
Hope went by and Peace went by
And would not enter in;
Youth went by and Health went by
And Love that is their kin.
The Days when we went Swimming
© Henry Lawson
The breezes waved the silver grass,
Waist-high along the siding,
Krishna Questions His Hair Braid Not Growing
© Sant Surdas
Mother, when will my hair-braid grow?
milk you said will make it grow,
Heraclitus
© William Johnson Cory
They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead,
They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed.
The Unsettled Scores
© Edgar Albert Guest
The men are talking peace at 'ome, but 'ere we're talking fight,
There's many a little debt we've got to square;
A sniper sent a bullet through my bunkie's 'ead last night,
And 'is body's lying somewhere h'over there.
The Wolves
© Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy
When the church-village slumbers
And the last songs are sung,
Ode A La Fortune
© Jean-Baptiste Rousseau
Fortine dont la main couronne
Les forfaits les plus inouis,
The Wolf and the Lamb
© Theocritus
In truth the day will come
When the sharp-toothed wolf,
Having seen the kid in his lair,
Shall not wish to harm it.
St. Yves Poor
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Thy dead are sheltered; housed and warmed they wait
Under the golden fern, the falling foam;
But these, Thy living, wander desolate
And have not any home.
