All Poems
/ page 914 of 3210 /
The Bridegroom Of Cana
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
VEIL thine eyes, O belovéd, my spouse,
Turn them away,
Lest in their light my life withdrawn
Dies as a star, as a star in the day,
As a dream in the dawn.
The Christmas Of 1888
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Low in the east, against a white, cold dawn,
The black-lined silhouette of the woods was drawn,
And on a wintry waste
Of frosted streams and hillsides bare and brown,
Through thin cloud-films, a pallid ghost looked down,
The waning moon half-faced!
Object of My First Desire
© Augustus Montague Toplady
Object of my first desire,-
Jesus, crucified for me;-
The Army Surgeon
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Over that breathing waste of friends and foes,
The wounded and the dying, hour by hour,-
Mrs. Judge Jenkins
© Francis Bret Harte
(BEING THE ONLY GENUINE SEQUEL TO "MAUD MULLER"
Maud Muller all that summer day
The Indifferent
© Francis Beaumont
Never more will I protest,
To love a woman but in jest:
For as they cannot be true,
So, to give each man his due,
When the wooing fit is past
Their affection cannot last.
Then
© Harry Kemp
When all the sea's high ships
Have dropped beyond my sky
And life's trumpet leaves my lips
And women pass me by -
Dear God, let me die!
To Sleep
© Walter Savage Landor
COME, Sleep! but mind ye! if you come without
The little girl that struck me at the rout,
By Jove! I would not give you half-a-crown
For all your poppy-heads and all your down.
Lost Treasure
© Mathilde Blind
Here--fresh from fumes of some Falstaffian bout,
When famous champions, fired by many a bet,
Had drained huge bumpers while the stars would set--
Beneath its reeling branches by the way,
Till twice twelve hours of April bloom were out--
Locked in oblivion--Shakespeare lost a day.
The Bewildered Guest
© William Dean Howells
I WAS not asked if I should like to come.
I have not seen my host here since I came,
Courage
© George Chapman
Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea
Loves to have his sails filled with a lusty wind
Even till his sailyards tremble, his masts crack,
And his rapt ship runs on her side so low
The Garden
© Aline Murray Kilmer
AND now it is all to be done over again,
And what will come of it only God can know.
What has become of the furrows ploughed by pain,
And the plants set row on row?
Distant View Of England From The Sea
© William Lisle Bowles
Yes! from mine eyes the tears unbidden start,
As thee, my country, and the long-lost sight
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 01:
© Conrad Aiken
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
Last before America
© Louis MacNeice
A spiral of green hay on the end of a rake:
The moment is sweat and sun-prick---children and old women
Big in a tiny field, midgets against the mountain,
So toy-like yet so purposed you could take
This for the Middle Ages.
On The Death Of President Garfield
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FALLEN with autumn's falling leaf
Ere yet his summer's noon was past,
Our friend, our guide, our trusted chief,--
What words can match a woe so vast!
Trafalgar Day
© Edith Nesbit
LAURELS, bring laurels, sheaves on sheaves,
Till England's boughs are bare of leaves!
The Laird Of Waristoun
© Andrew Lang
Down by yon garden green,
Sae merrily as she gaes;
She has twa weel-made feet,
And she trips upon her taes.
That Pretty Girl in the Army
© Henry Lawson
Now I often sit at Wattys, when the night is very near
With a head thats full of jingles and the fumes of bottled beer;
For I always have a fancy that, if I am over there
When the Army prays for Watty, Im included in the prayer.
A Little Old Maid
© Harriet Monroe
She grew, like other girls and flowers,
Sheltered and tended daintily;
And told her dolls, through sunny hours,
A prince would come her love to be.
