All Poems
/ page 923 of 3210 /Douro
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The dripping of the boughs in silence heard
Softly; the low note of some lingering bird
Amid the weeping vapour; the chill fall
Of solitary evening upon all
The Secret
© William Cosmo Monkhouse
SHE passes in her beauty bright
Amongst the mean, amongst the gay,
Good-Night
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
THE lark is silent in his nest,
The breeze is sighing in its flight,
A Noonday Vision
© Frances Anne Kemble
I saw one whom I love more than my life
Stand on a perilous edge of slippery rock,
A child said, What is the grass?
© Walt Whitman
A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.
Spring
© Celia Thaxter
The alder by the river
Shakes out her powdery curls;
The willow buds in silver
For little boys and girls.
Silence
© James Whitcomb Riley
Thousands of thousands of hushed years ago,
Out on the edge of Chaos, all alone
Tom Tyler And His Wife (excerpt)
© Anonymous
I am a poor tiler in simple array,
And get a poor living, but eightpence a day,
My wife as I get it doth spend it away,
And I cannot help it, she saith; wot we why?
For wedding and hanging is destiny.
My Comforter
© Emily Jane Brontë
Well hast thou spoken, and yet, not taught
A feeling strange or new;
Thou hast but roused a latent thought,
A cloud-closed beam of sunshine, brought
To gleam in open view.
To F. C. In Memoriam Palestine, '19
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Do you remember one immortal
Lost moment out of time and space,
By The Camp Fire
© Ada Cambridge
Ah, 'twas but now I saw the sun flush pink on yonder placid tide;
The purple hill-tops, one by one, were strangely lit and glorified;
And yet how sweet the night has grown, with palest starlights dimly sown!
On An Apple-Ripe September Morning
© Patrick Kavanagh
On an apple-ripe September morning
Through the mist-chill fields I went
With a pitch-fork on my shoulder
Less for use than for devilment.
Because The Pleasure-Bird Whistles
© Dylan Thomas
Because the pleasure-bird whistles after the hot wires,
Shall the blind horse sing sweeter?
With Ships the Sea was Sprinkled Far and Nigh
© William Wordsworth
With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,
Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed;
Fredman's song no. 10
© Carl Michael Bellman
Drink till after twelve or more,
Live it up with madmen !
Det kimer nu til julefest
© Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
Det kimer nu til julefest
det kimer for den høje gæst
som steg til lave hytter ned
med nytårsgaver: fryd og fred!
With A Pressed Flower
© James Russell Lowell
This little blossom from afar
Hath come from other lands to thine;
For, once, its white and drooping star
Could see its shadow in the Rhine.
Limerick: There was a Young Lady Whose Bonnet
© Edward Lear
There was a Young Lady whose bonnet,
Came untied when the birds sate upon it;
But she said: 'I don't care!
All the birds in the air
Are welcome to sit on my bonnet!'