All Poems
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Grace Of Clydeside
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
AH, little Grace of the golden locks,
The hills rise fair on the shores of Clyde.
As the merry waves wear out these rocks
She wears my heart out, glides past and mocks:
But heaven's gate ever stands open wide.
The Challenge. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Third)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I have a vague remembrance
Of a story, that is told
In some ancient Spanish legend
Or chronicle of old.
The Last Banquet Of Antony And Cleopatra
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thy foes had girt thee with their dead array,
O stately Alexandra! - yet the sound
Aspiration
© Madison Julius Cawein
God knows I strive against low lust and vice,
Wound in the net of their voluptuous hair;
God knows that all their kisses are as ice
To me who do not care.
It is not seemly to be famous...
© Boris Pasternak
It is not seemly to be famous:
Celebrity does not exalt;
There is no need to hoard your writings
And to preserve them in a vault.
Messer Dante A Messer Bruno
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
ESSENDO pazzo, il bue al guado intoppa,
E volta e sfugge e d'acqua và digiuno:
Eavesdropper
© Sylvia Plath
Your brother will trim my hedges!
They darken your house,
Nosy grower,
Mole on my shoulder,
Graves of the Confederate Dead
© Henry Timrod
I
Sleep sweetly in your humble graves,
Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;
Though yet no marble column craves
The pilgrim here to pause.
The Creole Girl; Or, The Physicians Story
© Caroline Norton
SHE came to England from the island clime
Which lies beyond the far Atlantic wave;
She died in early youth--before her time--
"Peace to her broken heart, and virgin grave!"
II.
Whistling Sam
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
When dey had revival meetin' an' de Lawd's good grace was flowin'
On de groun' dat needed wat'rin' whaih de seeds of good was growin',
While de othahs was a-singin' an' a-shoutin' right an' lef,
You could hyeah dat boy a-whistlin' kin' o' sof beneaf his bref:
The Blind Man Of Jericho
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
He sat by the dusty way-side,
With weary, hopeless mien,
On his furrowed brow the traces
Of care and want were seen;
With outstretched hand and with bowed-down head
He asked the passers-by for bread.
Quatrain (With English Translation)
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Raat yunh dil mein teri khoee hui yaad aayee
Jaise veeraaney mein chupkey sey bahaar aa jaye
Jaisey sehra on mein howley se chaley baadey naseem
Jaisey beemaar ko bey wajhey Qaraar aa jaaye
In Imitation of Cowley : The Garden
© Alexander Pope
Fain would my Muse the flow'ry Treasures sing,
And humble glories of the youthful Spring;
The First Kiss Of Love
© George Gordon Byron
Away with your fictions of flimsy romance;
Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove!
Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance,
Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love.
The Well-Dressed Children
© Robert Graves
Here's flowery taffeta for Mary's new gown:
Here's black velvet, all the rage, for Dick's birthday coat.
Pearly buttons for you, Mary, all the way down,
Lace ruffles, Dick, for you; you'll be a man of note.
As Good as New
© Henry Lawson
Oh, this is a song for the old foewe have both grown wiser now,
And this is a song for the old foe, and were sorry we had that row;
And this is a song for the old lovethe love that we thought untrue
Oh, this is a song of the dear old love that comes back as good as new.
Fountains Abbey
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
NEVER more, when the day is o'er,
Will the lonely vespers sound;
No bells are ringingno monks are singing,
When the moonlight falls around.
How to eat a Poem
© Eve Merriam
Dont be polite.
Bite in.
Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that
may run down your chin.
It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are.
My Baby Has A Mottled Fist
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
My baby has a mottled fist,
My baby has a neck in creases;
My baby kisses and is kissed,
For he's the very thing for kisses.
