All Poems
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Memorials of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 I. Departure From The Vale Of Grasmere, August 1803
© William Wordsworth
THE gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains
Might sometimes covet dissoluble chains;
Even for the tenants of the zone that lies
Beyond the stars, celestial Paradise,
Sonnet LVIII. The Glow-Worm
© Charlotte Turner Smith
WHEN on some balmy-breathing night of Spring
The happy child, to whom the world is new,
Pursues the evening moth, of mealy wing,
Or from the heath-bell beats the sparkling dew;
The Joy Of Getting Back
© Edgar Albert Guest
There ain't the joy in foreign skies that those of home possess,
An' friendliness o' foreign folks ain't hometown friendliness;
An' far-off landscapes with their thrills don't grip me quite as hard
As jes' that little patch o' green that's in my own backyard.
Laodamia
© William Wordsworth
O terror! what hath she perceived?-O joy!
What doth she look on?-whom doth she behold?
Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence? his corporeal mould?
It is-if sense deceive her not-'tis He!
And a God leads him, wingèd Mercury!
The Way To Happiness
© Thomas Parnell
How long ye miserable blind
Shall idle dreams engage your mind,
Picture of Twilight
© Caroline Norton
Oh, Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth,
Anagke
© Mathilde Blind
So sternly dost thou tower above us, Fate!
For still our eager hearts exultant beat,
Borne in the hurrying tide of life elate,
And dashing break against thy marble feet.
But would Hope's rainbow-aureole round us fleet,
Without these hurtling shocks of man's estate?
Our Humming-Bird
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AH, well I know the reason why
They called her by that graceful name:
She seems a creature born with wings,
O'er which a rainbow spirit flings
The Humming Birds
© Alfred Noyes
Green wing and ruby throat,
What shining spell, what exquisite sorcery,
Lured you to float
And fight with bees round this one flowering tree?
Message From Abroad
© Allen Tate
Paris, November 1929
Their faces are bony and sharp but very red, although
their ancestors nearly two hundred years have dwelt
by the miasmal banks of tidewaters where malarial fever
makes men gaunt and dosing with quinine shakes them
as with a palsy. Traveller to America (1799).
As weary pilgrim, now at rest
© Anne Bradstreet
As weary pilgrim, now at rest,
Hugs with delight his silent nest
A Later Alexandrian
© George Meredith
An inspiration caught from dubious hues
Filled him, and mystic wrynesses he chased;
The Ballad Of William Sycamore [1790-1871]
© Stephen Vincent Benet
My father, he was a mountaineer,
His fist was a knotty hammer;
He was quick on his feet as a running deer,
And he spoke with a Yankee stammer.
Fragments - Lines 0783 - 0788
© Theognis of Megara
Yes, I went once to the land of Sicily too,
I went to Euboia's vineyard-covered plain,
And to Sparta, that splendid city on Eurotas' reedy banks;
And everywhere I went they welcomed me with kindness.
But no pleasure came to my heart from any of them:
So true is it, after all, that nothing is dearer than one's homeland.
Blanche And Nell
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OH, Blanche is a city lady,
Bedecked in her silks and lace:
She walks with the mien of a stately queen,
And a queen's imperious grace.
The Invocation
© William Blake
Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet's Song,
Record the journey of immortal Milton thro' your realms
Of terror and mild moony lustre, in soft Sexual delusions
Of varièd beauty, to delight the wanderer, and repose
Inscription For A Tomb In England
© Henry Van Dyke
Read here, O friend unknown,
Our grief, of her bereft;
