All Poems
/ page 838 of 3210 /Shadow-of-a-Leaf
© Alfred Noyes
Bird, squirrel, bee, and the thing that was like no other
Played in the woods that day,
Talked in the heart of the woods, as brother to brother,
And prayed as children pray,
Make me a garland, Lady, a garland, Mother,
For this wild rood of may.
Just Half Of That, Please
© Edgar Albert Guest
Grandmother says when I pass her the cake:
"Just half of that, please."
The Power Of Words
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
'Tis a strange mystery, the power of words!
Life is in them, and death. A word can send
Italy : 50. Genoa
© Samuel Rogers
This house was Andrea Doria's. Here he lived;
And here at eve relaxing, when ashore,
Held many a pleasant, many a grave discourse
With them that sought him, walking to and fro
The Record
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
HE sleeps, his head upon his sword,
His soldier's cloak a shroud;
His church-yard is the open field,--
Three times it has been plough'd:
A Bonus
© Elizabeth Smart
That day i finished
A small piece
For an obscure magazine
I popped it in the box
Winter Memories
© Henry David Thoreau
Within the circuit of this plodding life
There enter moments of an azure hue,
Jezebel Mort
© Arthur Symons
Now in the hospital grey, whose walls were built by no priest,
Where, a white glare shines in on one's very self in one's bed,
Drifting over one's skin, touching the hair on one's head;
Foolish Children
© George MacDonald
Waking in the night to pray,
Sleeping when the answer comes,
Foolish are we even at play-
Tearfully we beat our drums!
Cast the good dry bread away,
Weep, and gather up the crumbs!
Of Brusselsit was not
© Emily Dickinson
Of Brusselsit was not
Of Kidderminster? Nay
The Winds did buy it of the Woods
Theysold it unto me
The Red-Tressed Maiden
© Roderic Quinn
RED she is in a robe of sable,
Rosy with pictures and tales to tell:
She is a fairy, and yet no fable,
Weaving the dreams that we love so well.
Satyr III. Virtue
© Thomas Parnell
Is virtue something reall here below
Or but an Idle name & empty show
While on this head I take my thoughts to task
Methinks young Freedom answers wt I ask
In his own moralls thus the Spark goes on
Or thus if he were here he might have don
I never felt at HomeBelow
© Emily Dickinson
I never felt at HomeBelow-
And in the Handsome Skies
I shall not feel at HomeI know
I don't like Paradise
Even When We Sleep
© Paul Eluard
Even when we sleep we watch over each other
And this love heavier than a lakes ripe fruit
Without laughter or tears lasts forever
One day after another one night after us.
Double Ballad Of Life And Death
© William Ernest Henley
Fools may pine, and sots may swill,
Cynics gibe, and prophets rail,
A Ballad Of The Boston Tea-Party
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
It climbs and clasps the union-jack,
Its blazoned pomp is humbled,
The flags go down on land and sea
Like corn before the reapers;
So burned the fire that brewed the tea
That Boston served her keepers!