All Poems
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Sonnet: Lift Not The Painted Veil Which Those Who Live
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Lift not the painted veil which those who live
Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe
With colours idly spread,-behind, lurk Fear
Morning Peace.
© Arthur Henry Adams
THE sudden sunbeams slant between the trees
Like solid bars of silver. moonlight kissed,
And strike the supine shadows where they rest
Stretched sleeping; while a timid, new-born Breeze
Recollections Of A Faded Beauty
© Caroline Norton
There was a certain Irishman, indeed,
Who borrowed Cupid's darts to make me bleed.
My aunt said he was vulgar; he was poor,
And his boots creaked, and dirtied her smooth floor.
She hated him; and when he went away,
He wrote--I have the verses to this day:--
Judy
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
The waitress with the orange hair keeps motionin' me to hurry up and leave
I gulp my coffee - burn my mouth - grab up my coat and slippin' out
I smear a streak of mustard down my sleeve
And the guy behind the register takes my bread and shakes his head
In Collins Street
© George Essex Evans
I stood in the heart of the city street,
I felt the throb of her pulses beat,
The Refugees
© Grace Hazard Conkling
MOTHER, the poplars cross the moon;
The road runs on, so white and far,
A Lover's Quarrel Among the Fairies
© William Butler Yeats
Male Fairies: Do not fear us, earthly maid!
We will lead you hand in hand
By the willows in the glade,
By the gorse on the high land,
Epitaph On Mr. Chester Of Chicheley
© William Cowper
Tears flow, and cease not, where the good man lies,
Till all who know him follow to the skies.
Tears therefore fall where Chester's ashes sleep;
Him wife, friends, brothers, children, servants, weep;
And justly -- few shall ever him transcend
As husband, parent, brother, master, friend.
Bartimeus Grown Old
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Long years he dowered me with imperial day,
Bright-blossomed night and all the stars in trust.
Now I am blind again, and by the way
Wait still to catch his footsteps in the dust.
Surely he comes?and he will hear my cry,
Though he were stricken and dim and old as I.
"Upon the mountain's distant head"
© William Cullen Bryant
Upon the mountain's distant head,
With trackless snows for ever white,
Where all is still, and cold, and dead,
Late shines the day's departing light.
Mons Angelorum
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Joshua O father of my soul, I cannot tell.
The burden of the Lord is heavy on me,
And I am broken beneath it.
The Way Of The Bush
© Alice Guerin Crist
A night of storm and wind and rain,
Tall trees bowing beneath the blast
That shakes and rattles the window-pane,
And a thunderous roar as the creek goes past.
Sleep Compared To The Sea.
© Robert Crawford
The tide comes in, a surge from the great sea,
And every little muddy creek and inlet
Now sweltering in the heat, will soon be filled
With the salt sweetness; even as sleep comes
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude III.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus ran the Student's pleasant rhyme
Of Eginhard and love and youth;
The Stranger's Friend
© Henry Lawson
It is true to the region of adjectives when I say that the spree was grim,
For to go on the spree was a sacred rite, or a heathen rite, to him,
To shout for the travellers passing through to the land where the lost soul bakes
Till they all seemed devils of different breeds, and his pockets were filled with snakes.
Topsy-Turvy World
© William Brighty Rands
IF the butterfly courted the bee,
And the owl the porcupine;
Of The Boy and The Butterfly
© John Bunyan
Behold how eager this our little boy
Is for this Butterfly, as if all joy,
