All Poems
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A Pastoral Of Phyllis And Corydon
© Nicholas Breton
On a hill there grows a flower,
Fair befall the dainty sweet!
By that flower there is a bower,
Where the heavenly Muses meet.
Somebody Stole My Rig
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I'm haulin' twenty tons of freight into New York state
Started thinkin' bout Mary Jane
She lived over the hill I had an hour to kill I thought I'd get in out of the rain
Oh my she looked so fine had a bottle of wine
In London
© Dora Wilcox
When I look out on London's teeming streets,
On grim grey houses, and on leaden skies,
Cyder: Book II
© John Arthur Phillips
Sometimes thou shalt with fervent Vows implore
A moderate Wind; the Orchat loves to wave
With Winter-Winds, before the Gems exert
Their feeble Heads; the loosen'd Roots then drink
Large Increment, Earnest of happy Years.
The Prayer on the Pier
© Henry Clay Work
Proudly foats the ocean steamer,-
Throngs aboard and on the pier;
The Autumn Cyclamen
© Frances Anne Kemble
We are the ghosts of those small flowers,
That in the opening of the year,
Thou Art Not Lovelier Than Lilacs
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Thou art not lovelier than lilacs,-no,
Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more fair
American Names
© Stephen Vincent Benet
I have fallen in love with American names,
The sharp names that never get fat,
The snakeskin-titles of mining-claims,
The plumed war-bonnet of Medicine Hat,
Tucson and Deadwood and Lost Mule Flat.
The Days When We Were Young
© Henry Clay Work
Sister! Sister! don't you remember
The days when we were young?
Summer Song
© George MacDonald
"Murmuring, 'twixt a murmur and moan,
Many a tune in a single tone,
For every ear with a secret true-
The sea-shell wants to whisper to you."
To The Right Honorable The Lord S.
© Thomas Nashe
Pardon, _sweete flower of Matchles poetrie,
And fairest bud the red rose euer bare;
Although my Muse, devorst from deeper care,
Presents thee with a wanton Elegie.
Poetic Aphorisms. (From The Sinngedichte Of Friedrich Von Logau)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
MONEY
Whereunto is money good?
Who has it not wants hardihood,
Who has it has much trouble and care,
Who once has had it has despair.
The Ruined Abbey, or, The Affects of Superstition
© William Shenstone
At length fair Peace, with olive crown'd, regains
Her lawful throne, and to the sacred haunts
Colour
© William Henry Ogilvie
There's colour in the woodlands as far as eye can reach,
Pale gold upon the elm-tree and bronze upon the beech;
Sonnet XXXI. Life And Death. 3.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
IF death be final, what is life, with all
Its lavish promises, its thwarted aims,
Its lost ideals, its dishonored claims,
Its uncompleted growth? A prison wall,
Australia
© John Farrell
O Radiant Land! o'er whom the Sun's first dawning
Fell brightest when God said " Let there be Light;"'
