All Poems
/ page 249 of 3210 /
I could dieto know
© Emily Dickinson
I could dieto know
'Tis a trifling knowledge
News-Boys salute the Door
Cartsjoggle by
Morning's bold facestares in the window
Were but minethe Charter of the least Fly
Epigram
© William Cowper
To purify their wine some people bleed
A lamb into the barrel, and succeed;
No nostrum, planters say, is half so good
To make fine sugar, as a negro's blood.
The Poet To Be Yet.
© Arthur Henry Adams
NOT he who sings smooth songs that soothe
Sweet opiates that lull asleep
The sorrow that would only weep;
There are some spirit-stains so deep
Flower-De-Luce: Killed At The Ford
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He is dead, the beautiful youth,
The heart of honor, the tongue of truth,
Under The Sheet
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
What a terrible night! Does the Night, I wonder-
The Night, with her black veil down to her feet
Dead In The Cold, A Song-Singing Thrush
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Dead in the cold, a song-singing thrush,
Dead at the foot of a snowberry bush, -
Weave him a coffin of rush,
Dig him a grave where the soft mosses grow,
Raise him a tombstone of snow.
En Paz
© Amado Ruiz de Nervo
Muy cerca de mi ocaso, yo te bendigo, Vida,
porque nunca me diste ni esperanza fallida,
ni trabajos injustos, ni pena inmerecida;
O My Lord, Your Dwelling Places Are Lovely
© Yehudah HaLevi
O My Lord, Your dwelling places are lovely
Your Presence is manifest, not in mystery.
Der Ueber Uns
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Hans Steffen stieg bei Daemmerung (und kaum
konnt er vor Naeschigkeit die Daemmerung erwarten)
in seines Edelmannes Garten
und pluenderte den besten Apfelbaum.
Only In Sleep
© Sara Teasdale
Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild.
Poet
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
I heard from the garden a woman singing,
But I
I gazed at the moon.
A Walts With a Tear in It
© Boris Pasternak
It will not bat an eye if you heap gold
And jewels on it-this shyest of fays
In blue enamel and tinfoil enfolded
Creeps in your heart of heartsand there it stays.
Ah, how I love it all in these first days,
All golden finery and silver shades!
A Challenge
© James Benjamin Kenyon
ARISE, O soul, and gird thee up anew,
Though the black camel Death kneel at thy gate;
No beggar thou that thou for alms shouldst sue;
Be the proud captain still of thine own fate!
Sorrow And Joys
© George Meredith
Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise
As souls to the immortal skies,
And there look down like mothers' eyes.
Hiram H. Benner
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN the war-drums beat and the trumpets blare,
When banners flaunt in the stormy air,
When at thought of the deeds that must soon be done,
The hearts of a thousand leap up as one,
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Prelude; The Wayside Inn
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
One Autumn night, in Sudbury town,
Across the meadows bare and brown,
The windows of the wayside inn
Gleamed red with fire-light through the leaves
Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves
Their crimson curtains rent and thin.
Find Meat On Bones
© Dylan Thomas
'Find meat on bones that soon have none,
And drink in the two milked crags,
Skyfaring
© William Watson
Then I to that ethereal charioteer:
"O whither through the vastness are we bound?
O bear me back to yonder blinded sphere!"
Therewith I heard the ends of night resound;
And, wakened by ten thousand echoes, found
That far-off planet lying all-too near.
