All Poems
/ page 818 of 3210 /Victoria Regina
© Sir Henry Newbolt
A thousand years by sea and land
Our race hath served the island kings,
But not by custom's dull command
To-day with song her Empire rings:
The Old Year
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
O good old Year! this night's your last.
And must you go? With you I've passed
Some days that bear revision.
For these I'd thank you, ere you make
On A Circle
© Jonathan Swift
I'm up and down, and round about,
Yet all the world can't find me out;
Though hundreds have employ'd their leisure,
They never yet could find my measure.
When the Ladies Come to the Shearing Shed
© Henry Lawson
THE LADIES are coming, the super says
To the shearers sweltering there,
Ode
© Richard Lovelace
I.
You are deceiv'd; I sooner may, dull fair,
Seat a dark Moor in Cassiopea's chair,
Or on the glow-worm's uselesse light
Examination
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I went to the doctor-
He reached down my throat,
He pulled out a shoe
And a little toy boat,
That after Horrorthat 'twas us
© Emily Dickinson
That after Horrorthat 'twas us
That passed the mouldering Pier
Just as the Granite Crumb let go
Our Savior, by a Hair
To Edward Dowden: On Receiving From Him A Copy Of "The Life Of Shelley"
© William Watson
First, ere I slake my hunger, let me thank
The giver of the feast. For feast it is,
Hay
© Ted Hughes
The grass is happy
To run like the sea, to be glossed like a minks fur
By polishing wind.
Her heart is the weather.
She loves nobody
Least of all the farmer who leans on the gate.
Isabella; Or, The Pot Of Basil: A Story From Boccaccio
© John Keats
I.
Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel!
Where My Sight Goes
© Yvor Winters
Who knows
Where my sight goes,
What your sight shows--
Where the peachtree blows?
The Higher Brotherhood
© Madison Julius Cawein
To come in touch with mysteries
Of beauty idealizing Earth,
Go seek the hills, grown old with trees,
The old hills wise with death and birth.
Melodrama
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Take of these elements any you care about,
Put 'em in Texas, the Bowery, or thereabout;
Put in the powder and leave out the grammar,
And the certain result is a swell melodrammer.
The Tamarisk Hedge
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I know that there are slumbrous woods beyond
On islands of white marges, where the tide
The Story of Flying Robert
© Heinrich Hoffmann
When the rain comes tumbling down
In the country or the town,
All good little girls and boys
Stay at home and mind their toys.