All Poems
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If The Sun Could Tell Us Half
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
If the sun could tell us half
That he hears and sees,
The Land Of Happy
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Have you been to the land of happy,
Where everyone's happy all day,
Where they joke and they sing
Of the happiest things,
The Troubadour
© Sir Walter Scott
Glowing with love, on fire for fame
A Troubadour that hated sorrow
Cyder: Book I
© John Arthur Phillips
What Soil the Apple loves, what Care is due
To Orchats, timeliest when to press the Fruits,
Thy Gift, Pomona, in Miltonian Verse
Adventrous I presume to sing; of Verse
Nor skill'd, nor studious: But my Native Soil
Invites me, and the Theme as yet unsung.
On The Death Of A Believer
© John Newton
In vain my fancy strives to paint
The moment after death
The glories that surround the saint,
When yielding up its breath.
The Ghost Ship.
© Robert Crawford
Behold her on the silent sea,
Yon vessel like a spirit there!
Moved in a dream's reality,
As if she trod the air.
Via Amoris
© Edith Nesbit
If this were Love why should I turn away?
Am I not, too, made of the common clay?
Is life so fair, am I so fortunate,
I can refuse the capricious gift of Fate,
The sudden glory, the unhoped-for flowers,
The transfiguration of my earthly hours?
The Annunciation Of The Blessed Virgin
© John Keble
Oh! Thou who deign'st to sympathise
With all our frail and fleshly ties,
Maker yet Brother dear,
Forgive the too presumptuous thought,
If, calming wayward grief, I sought
To gaze on Thee too near.
Another Love
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
OF her I thought who now is gone so far:
And, the thought passing over, to fall thence
Despair
© Ada Cambridge
O what is life, if we must hold it thus
As wind-blown sparks hold momentary fire?
What are these gifts without the larger boon?
O what is art, or wealth, or fame to us
Who scarce have time to know what we desire?
O what is love, if we must part so soon?
A Cry from South Africa
© James Montgomery
Africa, from her remotest strand,
Lifts to high heaven one fetter'd hand,
God Save The Flag
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Washed in the blood of the brave and the blooming,
Snatched from the altars of insolent foes,
Burning with star-fires, but never consuming,
Flash its broad ribbons of lily and rose.
Still-life
© Elizabeth Daryush
She comes over the lawn, the young heiress,
From her early walk in her garden-wood,
Feeling that life's a table set to bless
Her delicate desires with all that's good.
The Cupboard
© Robert Graves
Mary: That cupboard, dearest mother,
With shining crystal handles?
There's nought inside but rags and jags
And yellow tallow candles.
An Inventor
© Augusta Davies Webster
I thought this time 'twas done at last,
the workings perfected, the life in it;
and there's the flaw again, the petty flaw,
the fretting small impossibility
that has to be made possible.
Ghazal 1 (With English Tranlation)
© Daagh Dehlvi
[Youve] an objection to come [to me] and dont invite me either
[You] dont disclose the reason for severing relations either
