All Poems
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In August
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
When August days are hot an' dry,
When burning copper is the sky,
I 'd rather fish than feast or fly
In airy realms serene and high.
Inheritance
© Mary Thacher Higginson
WE wondered why he always turned aside
When mirth and gladness filled the brimming days:
De Critters' Dance
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ain't nobody nevah tol' you not a wo'd a-tall,
'Bout de time dat all de critters gin dey fancy ball?
Some folks tell it in a sto'y, some folks sing de rhyme,
'Peahs to me you ought to hyeahed it, case hit 's ol' ez time.
Que Adorable Mania....!
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Que adorable manía de decir
en mi pobreza y en mi desamparo:
soy mas rico, muy más que un gran visir:
el corazón que amé se ha vuelto faro!
Quatorzain
© Henry Timrod
MOST men know love but as a part of life;
They hide it in some corner of the breast,
The Way Of Love
© Edith Nesbit
THE butterfly loves the rose,
He flutters around her bed,
Till the soft curled leaves unclose,
And she raises her darling head.
Old Dog Tray
© Stephen C. Foster
THE morn of life is past,
And ev'ning comes at last;
It brings me a dream of a once happy day,
Of merry forms I've seen
Narcissus
© Robert Laurence Binyon
By white St. Martin's, where the fountain shone
And plashed unheard in the busy morning air,
March, with rippling shadow and sudden sun,
Laughing riotous round the gusty square,
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
HE ARGUES WITH HIS LIFE
My life, what strange mad garments hast thou on,
Now that I see thee truly and am wise!
Thou wild, lost Proteus, strangling and undone!
The Slave
© Jones Very
I saw him forging link by link his chain,
Yet while he felt its length he thought him free,
The Better Job
© Edgar Albert Guest
If I were running a factory
I'd stick up a sign for all to see,
I'd print it large and I'd nail it high
On every wall that the men walked by,
And I'd have it carry this sentence clear:
"The Better Job that you want is here!'*
Linnet-Like.
© Robert Crawford
The joy of God gets into us, and we
Hum with the intuition of His power;
Even as a linnet, like a thing inspired,
Throats his love-lyrics in the dewy leaves.
Places
© Sara Teasdale
PLACES I love come back to me like music,
Hush me and heal me when I am very tired;
I see the oak woods at Saxton's flaming
In a flare of crimson by the frost newly fired;
Old-Fashioned Child.
© Robert Crawford
He was born old; they who got him were grey,
And quaint as things that long had seasoned here
When that he came a too true vintage of
The lateness of the brewing blood and brain;
Lines
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I 'm ashamed,--that 's the fact,--it 's a pitiful case,--
Won't any kind classmate get up in my place?
Just remember how often I've risen before,--
I blush as I straighten my legs on the floor!
In The Pass Of Killicranky
© William Wordsworth
SIX thousand veterans practised in war's game,
Tried men, at Killicranky were arrayed
Against an equal host that wore the plaid,
Shepherds and herdsmen.--Like a whirlwind came
Celia To Damon
© Matthew Prior
What can I say? What Arguments can prove
My Truth? What Colors can describe my Love?
If it's Excess and Fury be not known,
In what Thy Celia has already done?
I Planted A Rose Tree
© Mathilde Blind
I planted a rose tree in my garden,
In early days when the year was young;
I thought it would bear me roses, roses,
While nights were dewy and days were long.
