All Poems
/ page 210 of 3210 /Washington and Lincoln
© Henry Clay Work
Come, happy people! Oh come let us tell
The story of Washington and Lincoln!
The Strong Heroic Line
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FRIENDS of the Muse, to you of right belong
The first staid footsteps of my square-toed song;
A Hero's Grave
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Why should I weep? The grass is grass, the weeds
Are weeds. The emmet hath done thus ere now.
I tear a leaf; the green blood that it bleeds
Is cold. What have I here? Where, where, art thou,
My son, my son?
Is Life Worth Living?
© Alfred Austin
Is life worth living? Yes, so long
As Spring revives the year,
Canonizacion
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
A tu virtud mi devoción es tanta
Que te miro en el altar, como la santa
Patrona que veneran tus zagales,
Y así es como mis versos se han tornado
Endecasílabos pontificales.
The Revellers
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Ring, joyous chords!-ring out again!
A swifter still, and a wilder strain!
Saint Peter
© George MacDonald
O Peter, wherefore didst thou doubt?
Indeed the spray flew fast about,
Envy
© Adelaide Anne Procter
He was the first always: Fortune
Shone bright in his face.
I fought for years; with no effort
He conquered the place:
We ran; my feet were all beeding,
But he won the race.
Drought by Felecia Caton Garcia: American Life in Poetry #111 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-20
© Ted Kooser
As poet Felecia Caton Garcia of New Mexico shows us in this moving poem, there are times when parents feel helpless and hopeless. But the human heart is remarkable and, like a dry creek bed, somehow fills again, is renewed and restored.
Drought
Try to remember: things go wrong in spite of it all.
I listen to our daughters singing in the crackling rows
of corn and wonder why I don't love them more.
They move like dark birds, small mouths open
The Price of An Equipage
© William Shenstone
Servum si potes, Ole, non habere,
Et regem potes, Ole, non habere. Mart.
Adultery
© James Dickey
We have all been in rooms
We cannot die in, and they are odd places, and sad.
Often Indians are standing eagle-armed on hills
I Was Again Beside Thee In A Dream
© Mathilde Blind
I was again beside thee in a dream:
Earth was so beautiful, the moon was shining;
The muffled voice of many a cataract stream
Came like a love-song, as, with arms entwining,
Our hearts were mixed in unison supreme.
With A Seashell
© James Russell Lowell
Shell, whose lips, than mine more cold,
Might with Dian's ear make bold,
The Better Day
© Archibald Lampman
Harsh thoughts, blind angers, and fierce hands,
That keep this restless world at strife,
Mean passions that, like choking sands,
Perplex the stream of life,
Girl's Love
© Lesbia Harford
I lie in the dark
Grass beneath and you above me,
Curved like the sky,
Insistent that you love me.
By The Seaside : The Evening Star
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Lo! in the painted oriel of the West,
Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines,
Garden Magic
© Bliss William Carman
WITHIN my stone-walled garden
(I see her standing now,
Uplifted in the twilight,
With glory on her brow!)