All Poems
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An Attempt To Remember The "Grandmother's Apology"
© Horace Smith
And Willie, my eldest born, is gone, you say, little Anne,
Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man;
He was only fourscore years, quite young, when he died;
I ought to have gone before, but must wait for time and tide.
To An Infant
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
To anger rapid and as soon appeased,
For trifles mourning and by trifles pleased;
Break friendship's mirror with a tetchy blow,
Yet snatch what coals of fire on pleasure's altar glow!
The Fen-Fire
© Madison Julius Cawein
The misty rain makes dim my face,
The night's black cloak is o'er me;
I tread the dripping cypress-place,
A flickering light before me.
Safari, Rift Valley by Roy Jacobstein: American Life in Poetry #116 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2
© Ted Kooser
It's the oldest kind of story: somebody ventures deep into the woods and comes back with a tale. Here Roy Jacobstein returns to America to relate his experience on a safari to the place believed by archaeologists to be the original site of human life. And against this ancient backdrop he closes with a suggestion of the brevity of our lives.
To Mr. Thomas Southern, on his Birth-Day
© Alexander Pope
Resign'd to live, prepar'd to die,
With not one sin, but poetry,
Ariadne Waking
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
The moist and quiet morn was scarcely breaking,
When Ariadne in her bower was waking;
Mary, the Maid o' the Tay
© William Topaz McGonagall
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Tay,
Whaur me and my Mary oft did stray;
But noo she is dead and gone far away,
Sae I maun mourn for lovely Mary, the Maid o' the Tay,
Book Of Suleika - Suleika 01
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE sun appears! A glorious sight!
The crescent-moon clings round him now.
On Some Shells Found Inland
© Trumbull Stickney
These are my murmur-laden shells that keep
A fresh voice tho' the years be very gray.
Face To Face
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
Oh, face to face with trouble,
friend, I have often stood,
The Sea-Maids Song
© Augusta Davies Webster
"OH, love me! love me!"
The sea-maid sings ori the pebbly shore
Written In A Diary
© Frances Anne Kemble
They who go down to the relentless deep,
After long horrible death of cold and drought
Compensation
© Harry Graham
Weep not for little Leonie,
Abducted by a French Marquis!
Though loss of honour was a wrench,
Just think how it's improved her French.
The Song of the Waste-Paper Basket
© Henry Lawson
O BARD of fortune, you deem me nought
But a mark for your careless scorn.
Dornenlieder
© Charles Godfrey Leland
I.
FOR efery Rose dot ploome in spring,
Dey say an maid is porn;
For efery pain dot Rose vill make
"The Fathers of our Fathers"
© Madison Julius Cawein
Written February 24, 1898, on reading the latest news concerning the
battleship Maine, blown up in Havana harbor, February 15th.
To Edom!
© Heinrich Heine
WITH each other, brother fashion,
Have we borne this many an age.
Thou hast borne with my existence,
And I borne have with thy rage.
Women In Love
© Donald Justice
It always comes, and when it comes they know.
To will it is enough to bring them there.
The knack is this, to fasten and not let go.
The Last Bison
© Charles Mair
A gentle vale, with rippling aspens clad,
Yet open to the breeze, invited rest.
So there I lay, and watched the sun's fierce beams
Reverberate in wreathed ethereal flame;
Or gazed upon the leaves which buzzed o'erhead,
Like tiny wings in simulated flight.
