All Poems
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Where We Did Keep Our Flagon
© William Barnes
When we in mornèn had a-drow'd
The grass or russlèn haÿ abrode,
The Fallen Elm
© Alfred Austin
The popinjay screamed from tree to tree,
Then was lost in the burnished leaves;
The sky was as blue as a southern sea,
And the swallow came back to the eaves.
The Cypress-Tree Of Ceylon
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THEY sat in silent watchfulness
The sacred cypress-tree about,
And, from beneath old wrinkled brows,
Their failing eyes looked out.
Good-bye
© Ada Cambridge
Good-bye! - 'tis like a churchyard bell - good-bye!
Poor weeping eyes! Poor head, bowed down with woe!
Kiss me again, dear love, before you go.
Ah, me, how fast the precious moments fly!
Good-bye! Good-bye!
You said that I
© Emily Dickinson
You said that I "was Great"one Day
Then "Great" it beif that please Thee
Or Smallor any size at all
NayI'm the size suit Thee
The Teacher
© Leon Gellert
A Cross is slanting tween two withered trees -
I saw him first in peace, amid a crowd
Psalm CXIV. (114) : A Paraphrase
© John Milton
When the blest seed of Terah's faithful Son,
After long toil their liberty had won,
And past from Pharian2 fields to Canaan Land,
Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand,
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: IX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I stopped, I listened, and I entered in,
With half--a--dozen more, that sight to see.
``The Booth of Beauty,'' 'twas a name of sin
Which seemed to promise a new mystery.
The Sensitive Plant
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
PART 1.
A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew,
And the young winds fed it with silver dew,
And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light.
And closed them beneath the kisses of Night.
To A Lady That Desired Me I Would Beare My Part With Her In
© Richard Lovelace
This is the prittiest motion:
Madam, th' alarums of a drumme
That cals your lord, set to your cries,
To mine are sacred symphonies.
Pilate's Wife
© George MacDonald
Why came in dreams the low-born man
Between thee and thy rest?
In vain thy whispered message ran,
Though justice was its quest!
Hymn V. Behold! the mountain of the Lord
© John Logan
Behold! the mountain of the Lord
In latter days shall rise,
Above the mountains and the hills,
And draw the wondering eyes.
Death Alone
© Pablo Neruda
Death is drawn to sound
like a slipper without a foot, a suit without its wearer,
comes to knock with a ring, stoneless and fingerless,
comes to shout without a mouth, a tongue, without a throat.
Nevertheless its footsteps sound
and its clothes echo, hushed like a tree.
Au Salon
© Ezra Pound
Her grave, sweet haughtiness
Pleaseth me, and in like wise
Her quiet ironies.
Others are beautiful, none more, some less.
Monday Before Easter
© John Keble
"Father to me thou art and mother dear,
And brother too, kind husband of my heart -
So speaks Andromache in boding fear,
Ere from her last embrace her hero part -
So evermore, by Faith's undying glow,
We own the Crucified in weal or woe.
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 82
© Alfred Tennyson
For this alone on Death I wreak
The wrath that garners in my heart;
He put our lives so far apart
We cannot hear each other speak.
