All Poems
/ page 948 of 3210 /Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: LVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
This was my term of glory. All who know
Something of life will guess untold the end.
In love, one ever kisses for his woe,
One lends his cheek, alas! or seems to lend,
Solitude
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Is someone there, oh weeping heart? No, no one there.
Perhaps a traveler, but he will be on his way.
The Old Chimaeras. Old Receipts
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THE old Chimaeras, old receipts
For making "happy land,"
The old political beliefs
Swam close before my hand.
Hos Ego Versiculos
© Francis Quarles
The Rose withers, the blossome blasteth,
The flowre fades, the morning hasteth:
The Sunne sets, the shadow flies,
The Gourd consumes, and man he dies.
Floobie Doobie Doo
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
As I walk down to Bishop Street I met a girl who smiled so sweet
Now she was young and pretty too
And on a string she walked with a thing called the Floobie Doobie Doo
Oh the Floobie Doobie Doo now what is that it ain't no dog and it ain't no cat
It's not the doll with eyes of blue
I never seen such a thing as thing called the Floobie Doobie Doo
Olney Hymn 21: Sardis
© William Cowper
"Write to Sardis," saith the Lord,
"And write what He declares,
Wind At Night
© Arthur Symons
The night was full of wind that ran
Like a strong blind distracted man
About the fields in the loud rain;
The night was full of the wind's pain.
Go Winter!
© James Whitcomb Riley
Go, Winter! Go thy ways! We want again
The twitter of the bluebird and the wren;
Leaves ever greener growing, and the shine
Of Summer's sun--not thine.--
An Unanswerable Apology For The Rich.
© Mary Barber
All--bounteous Heav'n, Castalio cries,
With bended Knees, and lifted Eyes,
When shall I have the Pow'r to bless,
And raise up Merit in Distress?
To The Balliol Men Still In Africa
© Hilaire Belloc
Balliol made me, Balliol fed me,
Whatever I had she gave me again;
And the best of Balliol loved and led me,
God be with you, Balliol men.
Last Words
© Allan Cunningham
A modern translation of this follows
GONE were but the winter cold,
And gone were but the snow,
I could sleep in the wild woods
Where primroses blow.
Of Beauty and Duty
© Dante Alighieri
TWO ladies to the summit of my mind
Have clomb, to hold an argument of love.
The one has wisdom with her from above,
For every noblest virtue well designed:
Swallows
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
O LITTLE hearts, beat home, beat home,
Here is no place to rest.
Night darkens on the falling foam
And on the fading west.
O little wings, beat home, beat home.
Love may no longer roam.
Audley Court
© Alfred Tennyson
The Bull, the Fleece are crammd, and not a room
For love or money. Let us picnic there
At Audley Court.
To Silvia
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Silvia, let us from the crowd retire,
For what to you and me
(Who but each other do desire)
Is all that here we see?
Sonnet XLI. George Ripley
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
WARM, generous and young in heart and brain,
A wise, ripe scholar of the antique mould,
Had he but chosen he might have enrolled
His name among philosophers who gain
The Prophecy Of Capys
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
X.
So marched they along the lake;
They marched by fold and stall,
By cornfield and by vineyard,
Unto the old man's hall.
An Unfinished Poem
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
All night I've heard the marsh-frog's croak,
The jay's rude matins now prevail,