All Poems

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On The Death Of Mrs. Elizabeth Filmer. An Elegiacall Epitaph

© Richard Lovelace

  You that shall live awhile, before
Old time tyrs, and is no more:
When that this ambitious stone
Stoopes low as what it tramples on:

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California City Landscape

© Carl Sandburg

On a mountain-side the real estate agents

  Put up signs marking the city lots to be sold there.

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Had I A Golden Pound (After The Irish)

© Francis Ledwidge

Had I a golden pound to spend,
My love should mend and sew no more.
And I would buy her a little quern,
Easy to turn on the kitchen floor.

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Nora

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

Within an English village yesterday

I came upon a little child at play.

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The Wood By The Sea

© Duncan Campbell Scott

I DWELL in the wood that is dark and kind
  But afar off tolls the main,
Afar, far off I hear the wind,
  And the roving of the rain.

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"I can't feel the sunshine"

© Lesbia Harford

I can't feel the sunshine
Or see the stars aright
For thinking of her beauty
And her kisses bright.

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Sonnet XXIV: Pride of Youth

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Even as a child, of sorrow that we give

The dead, but little in his heart can find,

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Lyksalighed

© Johan Herman Wessel

Lad Andre tænke, sige,
Guld giør os lykkelige;
Jeg fandt mit Himmerige,
Min Pige! i dit Skiød.

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I Would Live In Your Love

© Sara Teasdale

I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,
Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes;
I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,
I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads.

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Sunset

© Archibald Lampman

From this windy bridge at rest,
In some former curious hour,
We have watched the city's hue,
All along the orange west,
Cupola and pointed tower,
Darken into solid blue.

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To A Female Friend

© Emil Aarestrup

Your lips bewitch with sweet enchantment,
Your gaze reveals a deep abyss;
Your voice contains unearthly music,
A wondrous strain of dreamlike bliss.

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My Highland Lassie, O

© Robert Burns

Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
Yon palace and yon gardens fine!
The world then the love should know
I bear my Highland Lassie, O.
  Within the glen…

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The Banks Of Wye - Book II

© Robert Bloomfield

Return, my Llewellyn, the glory
That heroes may gain o'er the sea,
  Though nations may feel
  Their invincible steel,
By falsehood is tarnish'd in story;
Why tarry, Llewellyn, from me?

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Tuesday Before Easter

© John Keble

"Fill high the bowl, and spice it well, and pour
The dews oblivious:  for the Cross is sharp,
  The Cross is sharp, and He
  Is tenderer than a lamb.

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Et lidet barn sa lysteligt

© Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig

Et lidet barn så lysteligt


blev af en jomfru båret,

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The Letter

© John Hall Wheelock

The night is measureless, no voice, no cry,

Pierces the dark in which the planet swings --

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The Turning Dervish

© Arthur Symons

Stars in the heavens turn,
I worship like a star,
And in its footsteps learn
Where peace and wisdom are.

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The River

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

UP among the dew-lit fallows
Slight but fair it took its rise,
And through rounds of golden shallows
Brightened under broadening skies;

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The Mother Of A Poet

© Sara Teasdale

She is too kind, I think, for mortal things,
Too gentle for the gusty ways of earth;
God gave to her a shy and silver mirth,
And made her soul as clear

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The Mother

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

"Ho! "said the child, "how fine the horses go,

With nodding plumes, with measured step and slow