All Poems
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The Aerodrome
© Katharine Tynan
So now the aerodrome goes up
Upon my father's fields,
And gone is all the golden crop
And all the pleasant yields.
Voice Of New England
© John Greenleaf Whittier
UP the hillside, down the glen,
Rouse the sleeping citizen;
Summon out the might of men!
Like a lion growling low,
Sonnet IX "I Know Not Why, But All This Weary Day"
© Henry Timrod
I know not why, but all this weary day,
Suggested by no definite grief or pain,
Taste
© Mark Akenside
What, then, is taste but those internal powers,
Active and strong, and feeling alive
What We Must Do
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
What we must do and may not do.
This is the World's whole refrain,
Town And Country
© Edith Nesbit
THE Sun tells to Trafalgar Square
His old and radiant story,
And touches in the young spring air
The pepper-pots to glory.
Swans
© Sara Teasdale
Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.
Hymns to the Night : 2
© Novalis
Must the morning always return? Will the despotism of the earthly never cease? Unholy activity consumes the angel-visit of the Night
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - May
© George MacDonald
1.
WHAT though my words glance sideways from the thing
The Bunch Of Grapes
© George Herbert
Joy, I did lock thee up: but some bad man
Hath let thee out again:
Hatem
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Locks of brown, still bind your captive
In the circle of her face!
I, beloved sinuous tresses,
Naught possess that's worth your grace-
At a Lecture
© Joseph Brodsky
Since mistakes are inevitable, I can easily be taken
for a man standing before you in this room filled
The Willing Horse
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'd rather be the willing horse that people ride to death
Than be the proud and haughty steed that children dare not touch;
Afar In The Desert
© Thomas Pringle
Afar in the Desert I love to ride,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side:
Wanderer's Night Songs. (From Goethe)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I.
Thou that from the heavens art,
Clair de Lune
© Jean Lorrain
A l'heure, où les bois d'aubépines,
De combe en combe au loin neigeant,
Apparaîtront dans les ravines
Comme un léger brouillard d'argent,
Herr Weiser
© James Whitcomb Riley
Herr Weiser--! Three-score-years-and-ten--,
A hale white rose of his country-men,
