All Poems
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On The Death Of Lieut. William Howard Allen, Of The American Navy
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
He hath been mourned as brave men mourn the brave,
And wept as nations weep their cherished dead,
With bitter, but proud tears, and o'er his head
The eternal flowers whose root is in the grave,
The New Freethinker
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
John Grubby who was short and stout
And troubled with religious doubt,
Lines On Hearing, Three Or Four Years Ago, That Constantinople Was Swallowed Up By An Earthquake;
© Amelia Opie
A Report, though false, at that time generally believed.
The Double Fortress
© Alfred Noyes
Time, wouldst thou hurt us? Never shall we grow old.
Break as thou wilt these bodies of blind clay,
Thou canst not touch us here, in our stronghold,
Where two, made one, laugh all thy powers away.
Hoar-Frost
© Madison Julius Cawein
The frail eidolons of all blossoms Spring,
Year after year, about the forest tossed,
Gravikty
© Harold Monro
I
Fit for perpetual worship is the power
That holds our bodies safely to the earth.
Nature, For Nature's Sake
© Jean Ingelow
White as white butterflies that each one dons
Her face their wide white wings to shade withal,
Many moon-daisies throng the water-spring.
While couched in rising barley titlarks call,
And bees alit upon their martagons
Do hang a-murmuring, a-murmuring.
How The Fatuous Wish Of A Peasant Came True
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
This Moral by the tale is taught:--
The wish is father to the thought.
(We'd oftentimes escape the worst
If but the thinking part came first!)
On The Plethora Of Dryads
© Sylvia Plath
Hearing a white saint rave
About a quintessential beauty
Visible only to the paragon heart,
I tried my sight on an apple-tree
That for eccentric knob and wart
Had all my love.
The Monument Of Kindness
© Edgar Albert Guest
We do not build our monuments in stone,
The records of our life aren't cast in steel;
We are forgot, if when the spirit's flown
No human hearts our finger prints reveal.
Limerick:There was an Old Person of Cheadle
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Person of Cheadle,
Who was put in the stocks by the beadle
For stealing some pigs,
Some coats, and some wigs,
That horrible person of Cheadle.
The Dancers (For Edwin Arlington Robinson)
© Margaret Widdemer
Ours is a still town, a sad town, a sober town,
Still lie the dun roads all empty in the sun,
Sad comes the day up and sad falls the night down,
And sadly go we sleepwise when the day's watch is done!
Your Last Drive
© Thomas Hardy
Here by the moorway you returned,
And saw the borough lights ahead
That lit your face - all undiscerned
To be in a week the face of the dead,
And you told of the charm of that haloed view
That never again would beam on you.
Unlock The Land(an Australian Ballad)
© Anonymous
Why in this sunny land of gold
Rich soil and wealth containing,
Should we from day to day behold
The unemployed complaining?
Loraine
© George Essex Evans
In her dark-ringed eyes shone the sad unrest
That spoke in the heave of her troubled breast,
And her face was white as the chiselled stone,
And her lips pressed madly against my own,
And her heart beat wildly against my heart,
And we strove to go, but we could not part.
