All Poems
/ page 769 of 3210 /The Song Of Hiawatha XI: Hiawatha's Wedding-Feast
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,
How the handsome Yenadizze
"My Heart Is Sick With Longing"
© Thomas Hood
My heart is sick with longing, tho' I feed
On hope; Time goes with such a heavy pace
That neither brings nor takes from thy embrace,
As if he sleptforgetting his old speed:
To One Who Comes Now And Then
© Francis Ledwidge
When you come in, it seems a brighter fire
Crackles upon the hearth invitingly,
The household routine which was wont to tire ,
Grows full of novelty.
Nostradamus's Prophecy
© Andrew Marvell
For faults and follies London's doom shall fix,
And she must sink in flames in "sixty-six";
St. Dorothy
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
And Theophile burnt in the cheek, and said:
Yea, could one see it, this were marvellous.
I pray you, at your coming to this house,
Give me some leaf of all those tree-branches;
Seeing how so sharp and white our weather is,
There is no green nor gracious red to see.
Aubade
© Adelaide Crapsey
The morning is new and the skies are fresh washed with light,
The day cometh in with the sun and I awake laughing.
St. Barnabas
© John Keble
The world's a room of sickness, where each heart
Knows its own anguish and unrest;
On The Uses Of Adversity
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Nothing there is that mortal man may utterly despise;
What in our wealth we treasured, in our poverty we prize.
The Shadowy Waters: The Shadowy Waters
© William Butler Yeats
Second Sailor. And I had thought to make
A good round Sum upon this cruise, and turn
For I am getting on in lifeto something
That has less ups and downs than robbery.
Lwonesomeness
© William Barnes
As I do zew, wi' nimble hand,
In here avore the window's light,
How still do all the housegear stand
Around my lwonesome zight.
How still do all the housegear stand
Since Willie now 've a-left the land.
Die Schlafende Laura
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Nachlaessig hingestreckt,
Die Brust mit Flor bedeckt,
Sion
© George Herbert
Lord, with what glorie wast thou serv'd of old,
When Solomon's temple stood and flourished!
Where most things were of purest gold;
The wood was all embellished
With flowers and carvings mysticall and rare:
All show'd the builder's, crav'd the seer's care.
The Dream
© Sylvia Plath
Last night, he said, I slept well
except for two uncanny dreams
that came before the change of weather
when I rose and opened all
the shutters to let warm wind feather
with wet plumage through my rooms.
Dear Motherland Of France
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF FRANCE
Our Motherland, dear Motherland,
Tulips
© Padraic Colum
An age being mathematical, these flowers
Of linear stalks and spheroid blooms were prized
The Little Saint
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AT the calm matin hour
I see her bend in prayer,
As bends a virgin flower
Kissed by the summer air;
Cherrylog Road
© James Dickey
Off Highway 106
At Cherrylog Road I entered
The 34 Ford without wheels,
Smothered in kudzu,
With a seat pulled out to run
Corn whiskey down from the hills,