All Poems
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Emancipation Song
© Anonymous
Let waiting throngs now lift their voices,
As Freedom's glorious day draws near,
While every gentle tongue rejoices,
And each bold heart is filled with cheer;
The slave has seen the Northern star,
He'll soon be free, hurrah, hurrah!
Shemselnihar
© George Meredith
O my lover! the night like a broad smooth wave
Bears us onward, and morn, a black rock, shines wet.
How I shuddered-I knew not that I was a slave,
Till I looked on thy face:- then I writhed in the net.
Then I felt like a thing caught by fire, that her star
Glowed dark on the bosom of Shemselnihar.
Sonnet III. Canzone. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
They mock my toil--the nymphs and am'rous swains--
And whence this fond attempt to write, they cry,
Love, Dreaming of Death
© Charles Harpur
Sat on the earth as on a bier,
Where loss and ruin lived alone,
Without the comfort of a tear
Without a passing groan.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
COMPLAINING THAT HE HAD FALLEN AMONG THIEVES
Oh, Lytton, I have gambled with my soul,
And, like a spendthrift, pawned my heritage
To pitiless Jews, and paid a monstrous toll
Dedication
© Tadeusz Borowski
Staszek, my old friend,
from all the prisons of the earth
I come back to you
in a flight of poetry.
Ultima Thule: Maiden And The Weathercock
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
MAIDEN.
O weathercock on the village spire,
With your golden feathers all on fire,
Tell me, what can you see from your perch
Above there over the tower of the church?
Christmas Eve 1914
© Eugene Field
Silent, to-night, o'er Judah's hills
Bend low the angel throng,
No heavenly music fills the air
Exultantly with song;
The Village Saturday Night
© Giacomo Leopardi
The dearest day of all the week
Is this, of hope and joy so full;
To-morrow, sad and dull,
The hours will bring, for each must in his thought
His customary task-work seek.
I Love My Sweet Armenia's...
© Yeghishe Charents
No matter where I am yet I shall not forget our mournful songs,
Shall not forget our steel-lettered books which now have become prayers,
No matter how sharply they pierce my heart our wounds so soaked with blood,
Even then I love my orphaned and my bloodied, dear Armenia.
Fragments
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THE wounded hart and the dying swan
Were side by side
Where the rushes coil with the turn of the tide
The hart and the swan.
Rambles In Autumn
© James Thomson
But see the fading many-colour'd woods,
Shade deepening over shade, the country round
Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun,
Of every hue, from wan declining green
Foreign Lands
© Henry Lawson
Here we slave the dull years hopeless for the sake of Wool and Wheat
Here the homes of ugly Commerceniggard farm and haggard street;
Yet our mothers and our fathers won the life the heart demands
Less than fifty years gone over, we were born in Foreign Lands.
Fragments - Lines 1341 - 1350
© Theognis of Megara
Alas, I am in love with a soft-skinned boy, who to all my friends
Reveals that this is true, though he does so against my will.
The Monk
© Edith Nesbit
WHEN in my narrow cell I lie,
The long day's penance done at last,
I see the ghosts of days gone by,
And hear the voices of the past.
Crumbs Or The Loaf
© Robinson Jeffers
If one should tell them what's clearly seen
They'd not understand; if they understood they would not believe;
Sonnet VII
© George Santayana
I would I might forget that I am I,
And break the heavy chain that binds me fast,
