All Poems
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Beauty And Art
© Madison Julius Cawein
The gods are dead; but still for me
Lives on in wildwood brook and tree
Each myth, each old divinity.
A Dream, Written After the Author's Recovery from Illness
© Alaric Alexander Watts
O! it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please. ~ COLERIDGE.
The Lady With The Sewing-Machine
© Dame Edith Sitwell
Across the fields as green as spinach,
Cropped as close as Time to Greenwich,
Dickens In Camp
© Francis Bret Harte
Above the pines the moon was slowly drifting,
The river sang below;
The dim Sierras, far beyond, uplifting
Their minarets of snow.
I Want, I Want
© Sylvia Plath
Open-mouthed, the baby god
Immense, bald, though baby-headed,
Cried out for the mother's dug.
The dry volcanoes cracked and split,
Vultures
© Padraic Colum
FOUL-FEATHERED and scald-necked,
They sit in evil state;
Raw marks upon their breasts
As on men's wearing chains.
Comradeship
© Edgar Albert Guest
OF ALL the ships that sail life's sea,
The Comradeship's the one for me;
The Man Who Frets at Worldly Strife
© Joseph Rodman Drake
The man who frets at worldly strife
Grows sallow, sour, and thin;
Ecclesiastes
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
UNDER the fluent folds of needlework,
Where Balkis prick'd the histories of kings
John Brown
© James Whitcomb Riley
Writ in between the lines of his life-deed
We trace the sacred service of a heart
Night of the Scorpion
© Nissim Ezekiel
I remember the night my mother
was stung by a scorpion. Ten hours
of steady rain had driven him
to crawl beneath a sack of rice.
Ode To The Confederate Dead
© Allen Tate
You hear the shout, the crazy hemlocks point
With troubled fingers to the silence which
Smothers you, a mummy, in time.
Lily-Bell
© Louisa May Alcott
"Bright shines the summer sun,
Soft is the summer air;
Gayly the wood-birds sing,
Flowers are blooming fair.
Rebecca Who Slammed Doors for Fun and Perished Miserably
© Hilaire Belloc
A trick that everyone abhors
In little girls is slamming doors.
A wealthy banker's little daughter
Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater
(By name Rebecca Offendort),
Was given to this furious sport.
Myrtilla's Third Degree
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Before I trust my Fate to thee,
Or place my hand in thine--
(This is an easy parody,
Without a change of line.)
Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul to-night for me.
Limerick: There was an old man of Tobago
© Edward Lear
There was an old man of Tobago,
Who lived on rice, gruel and sago
Till, much to his bliss,
His physician said this -
To a leg, sir, of mutton you may go.
How Can a Man Escape Life's Sorrow and Regret?
© Li Yu
How can a man escape life's sorrow and regret?
What limit is there to my solitary grief?
An Old Lament Renewed
© Vernon Scannell
The soil is savoury with their bones' lost marrow;
Down among dark roots their polished knuckles lie,
And no one could tell one peeled head from another;
Earth packs each crater that once gleamed with eye.
