All Poems
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The Choir At Pixley
© Edgar Albert Guest
The choir we had in Pixley wasn't much for looks an' styles,
But today if I could hear it I would walk a hundred miles;
A Saint
© Padraic Colum
THE stir of children with fresh dresses on,
And men who meet and say unguarded words,
And women from the coops
Of drudgeries released;
Two Rondels
© George MacDonald
Then I must to my arms and fight-
Catch up my shield and two-edged sword,
The words of him who is thy word-
Nor cease till they are put to flight;
Then in the mid-sea of the night
I turn and listen for thee, Lord.
A Motherless Soft Lambkin
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
A motherless soft lambkin
Along upon a hill;
To Hilaire Belloc
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
For every tiny town or place
God made the stars especially;
To Vittoria Colonna. (Sonnet V.)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Lady, how can it chance--yet this we see
In long experience--that will longer last
Gitanjali
© Rabindranath Tagore
1.
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
To Mrs. S---. Written In My Sickness.
© Mary Barber
Dear Psyche, come, with chearful Face,
And bless this desolated Place.
O come! my sickly Couch attend,
And ease the Anguish of your Friend.
Things
© Aline Murray Kilmer
SOMETIMES when I am at tea with you
I catch my breath
At a thought that is old as the world is old
And more bitter than death.
Lines For An Album
© Weldon Kees
Over the river and through the woods
To grandmothers house we go ...
Mercurius Gallo-Belgicus
© John Donne
Like Esop's fellow-slaves, O Mercury,
Which could do all things, thy faith is ; and I
The Bush Fire
© Charles Harpur
What this might be he wonderedbut not long;
Divining soon the causea vast Bush Fire!
But deeming it too distant yet for harm,
During the night betiding, to repose
With his bed-faring household he retired.
Song IV
© Edith Nesbit
I HEAR the waves to-night
Piteously calling, calling
Though the light
Of the kind moon is falling,
Like kisses, on the sea
That calls for sunshine, dear, as my soul calls for thee.
An Old Answer
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Ask me not, Dear, what thing it is
That makes me love you so;
What graces, what sweet qualities,
That from your spirit flow:
For I have but this old reply,
That you are you, that I am I.
Our Atlas
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Not Atlas, with his shoulders bent beneath the weighty world,
Bore such a burden as this man, on whom the Gods have hurled
The evils of old festering lands-yea, hurled them in their might
And left him standing all alone, to set the wrong things right.
Ceremonies For Christmas
© Robert Herrick
Come, bring with a noise,
My merry, merry boys,
The Christmas Log to the firing;
While my good Dame, she
Bids ye all be free;
And drink to your heart's desiring.
The Pay Envelope
© Edgar Albert Guest
Is it all in the envelope holding your pay?
Is that all you're working for day after day?
Are you getting no more from your toil than the gold
That little enclosure of paper will hold?
Is that all you're after; is that all you seek?
Does that close the deal at the end of the week?
Song. Come Harriet! Sweet Is The Hour
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Come Harriet! sweet is the hour,
Soft Zephyrs breathe gently around,
The anemone's night-boding flower,
Has sunk its pale head on the ground.
