All Poems
/ page 843 of 3210 /To My Eldest Brother, With The British Army In Portugal
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Does memory's pencil oft, in mellowing hue,
Dear social scenes, departed joys renew;
In softer tints delighting to retrace,
Each tender image and each well-known face?
Yes! wanderer, yes! thy spirit flies to those,
Whose love unalter'd, warm and faithful glows!
Without thisthere is nought
© Emily Dickinson
Without thisthere is nought
All other Riches be
As is the Twitter of a Bird
Heard opposite the Sea
Theory And Practice.
© Robert Crawford
He has ta'en on a theory, and into it
Striven to work his life a false affair;
For every thought and feeling cannot be,
Like a mosaic, cut and trimmed to suit
Any particular design, however
Grand or beautiful.
The Faun
© John Le Gay Brereton
When I was but a little boy
Who hunted in the wood
To scare or mangle or destroy
A freakish elemental joy
That tasted life and found it good
The Life-Forest
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
IN springtime of our youth, life's purpling shade,
Foliage and fruit, do hang so thickly round,
We seem glad tenants of enchanted ground,
O'er which for aye dream-whispering winds have played.
So the Eyes accostand sunder
© Emily Dickinson
So the Eyes accostand sunder
In an Audience
Stampedoccasionallyforever
So may Countenance
The Three-Decker
© Rudyard Kipling
Full thirty foot she towered from waterline to rail.
It cost a watch to steer her, and a week to shorten sail;
But, spite all modern notions, I found her first and best -
The only certain packet for the Islands of the Blest.
A Song Of Two Burdens
© Alfred Noyes
The round brown sails were reefed and struggling home
Over the glitter and gloom of the angry deep:
Dark in the cottage she sang, "Soon, soon, he will come,
Dreamikin, Drowsy-head, sleep, my little one, sleep."
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: II
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Yes, who shall tell the value of our tears,
Whether we wept aright or idly grieved?
There is a tragedy in unloved years,
And in those passionate hours by love deceived,
Sudden Chorus Of The Slain Warriors Is Heard From On High
© George Borrow
From the heavenly, clear, invisible, home
Our voices come:
Since I From Love
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Since I from Love escaped am so fat,
I ne'er think to be in his prison ta'en;
Since I am free, I count him not a bean.
The Alleys
© Henry Lawson
I was welcome in a palace when the ball was at my feet,
I was petted in a garden and my triumph was complete.
The Only Day In Existence
© William Taylor Collins
The early sun is so pale and shadowy,
I could be looking up at a ghost
A Farm Walk
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
The year stood at its equinox
And bluff the North was blowing,
A bleat of lambs came from the flocks,
Green hardy things were growing;
I met a maid with shining locks
Where milky kine were lowing.
Lancan vei la folha
© Bernard de Ventadorn
Tuit cil que.m preyon qu'eu chan,
volgra saubesson lo ver,
The Stranger In Louisiana
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
We saw thee, O stranger, and wept!
We look'd for the youth of the sunny glance,
King Street.
© Arthur Henry Adams
A morn, a sallow lamp-lit morn,
A dawn that never breaks to day!
Old, old the faces, and forlorn;
The hearts look out, so seared, so grey!