All Poems
/ page 944 of 3210 /Death Of Gormlaith
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Queen, your smiling lips were dumb
With that last dear name you cried,
Yet some had it, ere you died,
Niall of Ulster whispered, "Come."
The Beloved
© Paul Eluard
She is standing on my eyelids
And her hair is wound in mine,
She has the form of my hands,
She has the colour of my eyes,
A Fear
© George MacDonald
O Mother Earth, I have a fear
Which I would tell to thee-
Softly and gently in thine ear
When the moon and we are three.
The Dying Chauffeur
© Rudyard Kipling
Wheel me gently to the garage, since my car and I must part-
No more for me the records and the run.
That cursed left-hand cylinder the doctors call my heart
Is pinking past redemption - I am done!
"Too oft the poet in elaborate verse"
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Too oft the poet in elaborate verse,
Flushed with quaint images and gorgeous tropes,
Love in Thy Youth, Fair Maid
© Walter Porter
Love in thy youth, fair maid; be wise,
Old Time will make thee colder,
To Sensibility
© Helen Maria Williams
In SENSIBILITY'S lov'd praise
I tune my trembling reed,
And seek to deck her shrine with bays,
On which my heart must bleed!
The Voyage To Vinland: Bioern's Beckoners
© James Russell Lowell
Looms there the New Land;
Locked in the shadow
Long the gods shut it,
Niggards of newness
They, the o'er-old.
Heart be still, the sun goes down
© Jeppe Aakjaer
Heart; be still, the sun goes down,
Smiling over the meadows,
Sheep and cows are homeward bound
Through the deepening shadows,
Heart, be still, be still, the sun goes down.
Dotage
© George Herbert
False glozing pleasures, casks of happinesse,
Foolish night-fires, women's and children's wishes,
Chases in arras, guilded emptinesse,
Shadows well mounted, dreams in a career,
Embroider'd lyes, nothing between two dishes;
These are the pleasures here.
Songs Set To Music: 9. Set By Mr. De Fesch
© Matthew Prior
Is it, O love, thy want of eyes,
Or by the Fates decreed,
That hearts so seldom sympathise,
Or for each other bleed?
Le Positivisme
© Louise-Victorine Choquet Ackermann
Il s'ouvre par-delà toute science humaine
Un vide dont la Foi fut prompte à s'emparer.
De cet abîme obscur elle a fait son domaine ;
En s'y précipitant elle a cru l'éclairer.
Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
All the Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas
Layin' in the sun,
Talkin' 'bout the things
They woulda coulda shoulda done...
The Stage-Driver's Story
© Francis Bret Harte
It was the stage-driver's story, as he stood with his back to the
wheelers,
Quietly flecking his whip, and turning his quid of tobacco;
While on the dusty road, and blent with the rays of the moonlight,
We saw the long curl of his lash and the juice of tobacco descending.
Challenge
© Edgar Albert Guest
Life is a challenge to the bold,
It flings its gauntlet down
And bids us, if we seek for gold
And glory and renown,
To come and take them from its store,
It will not meekly hand them o'er.
Penelope
© Francis Thompson
Love, like a wind, shook wide your blosmy eyes,
You trembled, and your breath came sobbing-wise
For that you loved me.
The Poor Man's Pig
© Edmund Blunden
Then out he lets her run; away she snorts
In bundling gallop for the cottage door,
With hungry hubbub begging crusts and orts,
Then like the whirlwind bumping round once more;
Nuzzling the dog, making the pullets run,
And sulky as a child when her play's done.