All Poems
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Glorous Heart
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Swift and straight as homing dove,
Heedless, so its flight be flown,
All the full stream of thy love,
Love that knows no mortal bounding,
Opportunity.
© Robert Crawford
I can believe it, that we each do have
One opportunity, and on it hangs
It may be all.
Severance
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AH! who call tell how strong the tie
Which subtly binds us, heart to heart,
Till the dark master, Death, comes nigh,
To wrench our kindred lives apart?
Fairies
© Madison Julius Cawein
On the tremulous coppice,
From her plenteous hair,
Large golden-rayed poppies
Of moon-litten air
The Night hath flung there.
O Cupid, Cupid; Get Your Bow!
© Henry Lawson
ARMING down along the stream,
Along the sparkling water,
And past the pool where lilies gleam,
There comes the squatters daughter.
Sonnet VI
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I CAST this sorrow from me like a crown
Of bitter nettles, and unwholesome weeds,
Nursed by cold night-dews, from malignant seeds,
Ill Fortune sowed, when all the heaven did frown;
El Son Del Corazon
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Una música intima no cesa
porque transida en un abrazo de oro
la Caridad con el Amor se besa.
Care-Free Youth
© Edgar Albert Guest
The skies are blue and the sun is out
and the grass is green and soft
Professor Tait, Loquitur
© James Clerk Maxwell
Will mounted ebonite disk
On smooth unyielding bearing,,
The Prisoner And The Angel
© Henry Van Dyke
Self is the only prison that can ever bind the soul;
Love is the only angel who can bid the gates unroll;
And when he comes to call thee, arise and follow fast;
His way may lie through darkness, but it leads to light at last.
Rites of Passage II
© Robert Duncan
Peace, peace. Ive had enough. What can I say
when songs demanded? Ive had my fill of song?
My longing to sing grows full. Times emptied me.
At Glan-y-Wern
© Arthur Symons
White-robed against the threefold white
Of shutter, glass and curtains' lace,
She flashed into the evening light
The brilliance of her gipsy face:
I saw the evening in her light.
On The Same Person (Who Wrote Ill, And Spake Worse, Against Me)
© Matthew Prior
While faster than his costive brain indites
Philo's quick hand in flowing letters writes;
Wind by Mike White: American Life in Poetry #121 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
A waiter in a clean apron
appeared, not quite
certain, shielding his eyes, wary
of our rumbling engines.
Song of The Stream-Drops
© Archibald Lampman
By silent forest and field and mossy stone,
We come from the wooden hill, and we go to the sea.
We labour, and sing sweet songs, but we never moan,
For our mother, the sea, is calling us cheerily.
We have heard her calling us many and many a day
From the cool grey stones and the white sands far away.
On....Asleep
© Samuel Rogers
Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile.
Tho' shut so close thy laughing eyes,
Thy rosy lips still wear a smile,
And move, and breathe delicious sighs!--
The Black Tracker (Or: Why He Lost The Track)
© Henry Lawson
THERE was a tracker in the force
Of wondrous sight (the story ran):
He never failed to track a horse,
He never failed to find his man.
On Sending My Son, As A Present, To Dr. Swift, Dean Of St. Patrick's, On His Birth--Day.
© Mary Barber
A richer Present I design,
A finish'd Form, of Work divine,
Surpassing all the Power of Art,
A thinking Head, and grateful Heart,
An Heart, that hopes, one Day, to show
How much we to the Drapier owe.
