All Poems
/ page 954 of 3210 /
The Builders
© Ebenezer Elliott
Spring, summer, autumn, winter,
Come duly, as of old;
Winds blow, suns set, and morning saith,
"Ye hills, put on your gold."
Sweet Florida
© Annie McCarer Darlington
Beautiful Florida! land of the flowers,
Home of the mocking bird, saucy and bold,
Sweet are the roses that perfume thy bowers,
And brilliant thy sunshine like burnished gold.
The Generous Nephew
© Confucius
I escorted my uncle to Tsin,
Till the Wei we crossed on the way.
Then I gave as I left
For his carriage a gift
Four steeds, and each steed was a bay.
The Perils of Invisibility
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Old PETER led a wretched life -
Old PETER had a furious wife;
Old PETER too was truly stout,
He measured several yards about.
Which Is The Favourite?
© Charles Lamb
Brothers and sisters I have many:
Though I know there is not any
On The Downs
© Edith Nesbit
THE little moon is dead,
Drowned in the flood of rain
That drips from roof of byre and shed,
And splashes in the lane:
The leafless lean-flanked lane where last year's leaves are spread.
Life Is A Dream - Act III
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
FIRST SOLDIER [within]. He is here within this tower.
Dash the door from off its hinges;
Enter all
Noonday Rest
© Mathilde Blind
THE willows whisper very, very low
Unto the listening breeze;
Sometimes they lose a leaf which, flickering slow,
Faints on the sunburnt leas.
This Will Not Win Him
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Soul says,
How can I ever win him
When all I have is already his?
Feasts
© Boris Pasternak
I drink the gall of skies in autumn, tuberoses'
Sweet bitterness in your betrayals burning stream;
I drink the gall of nights, of crowded parties' noises,
Of sobbing virgin verse, and of a throbbing dream.
Wingless Victory
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Worms feed upon the bodies of the brave
Who bled for us: but we bewildered see
Viler worms gnaw the things they died to save.
Old clouds of doubt and weariness oppress.
Happy the dead, we cry, not now to be
In the day of this dissolving littleness!
Childless Woman
© Sylvia Plath
The womb
Rattles its pod, the moon
Discharges itself from the tree with nowhere to go.
Torre Nuovo
© Frances Anne Kemble
The water has flowed forth a year,
Since, sitting by the fountain's side,
The Songs Of Night
© Edgar Albert Guest
The moon swings low in the sky above,
And the twinkling stars shine bright,
Le Strige
© Arthur Symons
Le Strige is the only Symbol of our Sexual Vices,
A Demon winged with wind and with wild despair,
A hell-born Demon from the dire Infernal Lair
Of Satan, where the air is perfumed with subtle spices.
The Fear
© Pablo Neruda
They all ask me to jump
to invigorate and to play soccer,
to run, to swim and to fly.
Very well.
Shards
© Aline Murray Kilmer
I CAN never remake the thing I have destroyed;
I brushed the golden dust from the moth's bright wing,
I called down wind to shatter the cherry-blossoms,
I did a terrible thing.
