Cool poems

/ page 17 of 144 /

Order by :

1
. . .
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
. . .
144

Lucy's Song

© Charles Dickens

How beautiful at eventide

To see the twilight shadows pale,

Walter And Jane: Or, The Poor Blacksmith

'We brav'd Life's storm together; while that Drone,
'Your poor old Uncle, WALTER, liv'd alone.
'He died the other day: when round his bed
'No tender soothing tear Affection shed--
'Affection! 'twas a plant he never knew;--
'Why should he feast on fruits he never grew?'

A Roman Aqueduct

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

THE sun-browned girl, whose limbs recline
When noon her languid hand has laid
Hot on the green flakes of the pine,
Beneath its narrow disk of shade;

Winter Evening

© Georg Trakl

When snow falls against the window,
Long sounds the evening bell…
For so many has the table
Been prepared, the house set in order.

Senlin: A Biography Pt 02: His Futile Preoccupations

© Conrad Aiken

Vine leaves tap my window,
Dew-drops sing to the garden stones,
The robin chips in the chinaberry tree
Repeating three clear tones.

Hyperion. Book III

© John Keats

Thus in altemate uproar and sad peace,

Amazed were those Titans utterly.

The Ideal

© Madison Julius Cawein

Thee have I seen in some waste Arden old,
A white-browed maiden by a foaming stream,
With eyes profound and looks like threaded gold,
And features like a dream.

Magnetism

© Emma Lazarus

By the impulse of my will,

By the red flame in my blood,

The Toad

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Then also was it that that child with the stone,
He who now tells this story, from his hands
Let the flag drop. A voice had cried to him
Too loud for denial: ``Fool. Be merciful.''

The Ring And The Book - Chapter III - The Other Half-Rome

© Robert Browning

ANOTHER DAY that finds her living yet,

Little Pompilia, with the patient brow

The Art Of War. Book II.

© Henry James Pye

The season form'd to fan more pleasing fires,
Parent of blooming hopes and young desires,
When smiling Graces every flower combine,
The blooming wreaths of Love and Peace to twine,
Tempts only now to scenes of blood and death
The daring Warrior urg'd by Glory's breath.

At Twilight

© Guy Wetmore Carryl

Was it so long? It seems so brief a while
Since this still hour between the day and dark
Was lightened by a little fellows smile;
Since we were wont to mark

Hazel Blossoms

THE SUMMER warmth has left the sky,
The summer songs have died away;
And, withered, in the footpaths lie
The fallen leaves, but yesterday
With ruby and with topaz gay.

To Lady Carteret

FROM India's burning clime I'm brought,
With cooling gales like zephyrs fraught.
Not Iris, when she paints the sky,
Can show more different hues than I;