All Poems
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La Corona
© John Donne
Deign at my hands this crown of prayer and praise,
Weaved in my lone devout melancholy,
The Simple Toilers
© Edgar Albert Guest
JUST to do the little things
And do them well from day to day,
Your Heart Has Trembled To My Tongue
© William Ernest Henley
Your heart has trembled to my tongue,
Your hands in mine have lain,
Your thought to me has leaned and clung,
Again and yet again,
My dear,
Again and yet again.
On a Fan of the Author's Design
© Alexander Pope
Come gentle Air! th' AEolian shepherd said,
While Procris panted in the secret shade:
For a Statue of the Muses
© Theocritus
To you this marble statue, maids divine,
Xenocles raised, one tribute unto nine.
Your votary all admit him: by this skill
He gat him fame: and you he honours still.
To A Familiar Genius Flying By
© Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky
Reveal yourself, anonymous enchanter!
What heaven hastens you to me?
Why draw me to that promised land again
That I gave up so long ago?
But One
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The year has but one June, dear friend;
The year has but one June;
And when that perfect month doth end,
The robin's song, though loud, though long,
The Leper
© John Newton
Oft as the leper's case I read,
My own described I feel;
Sin is a leprosy indeed,
Which none but Christ can heal.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XLV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
Do you remember how I laughed at you
In the Beaulieu woods, and how I made my peace?
It was your thirtieth birthday, and you threw
Sonnet XXIII. Beethovens Fifth Symphony.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
THE mind's deep history here in tones is wrought,
The faith, the struggles of the aspiring soul,
The confidence of youth, the chill control
Of manhood's doubts by stern experience taught;
The Indian City
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
What deep wounds ever clos'd without a scar?
The heart's bleed longest, and but heal to wear
That which disfigures it.
Childe Harold
Souvenir De La Nuit Du 4 (Memory Of The Night Of The 4th)
© Victor Marie Hugo
L'enfant avait reçu deux balles dans la tête.
Le logis était propre, humble, paisible, honnête ;
A Birthday Present
© Sylvia Plath
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?
Unhousel'd, Unanointed, Unanel'd
© Katharine Tynan
When these men must go alone
Sans an absolution,
When their sins are heavy as lead,
Thou Thyself will lift the head ;
Thou, High Priest, wilt whisper low,
Te Absolvo! ere they go.
The Common Man
© Julian Tuwim
When plastered billboards scream with slogans
'fight for your country, go to battle'
Clinging Back
© Henry Lawson
When you see a man come walking down through George Street loose and free,
Suit of saddle tweed and soft shirt, and a belt and cabbagetree,
