All Poems
/ page 284 of 3210 /Regardin' Terry Hut
© James Whitcomb Riley
Sence I tuk holt o' Gibbses' Churn
And be'n a-handlin' the concern,
London Types: Mounted Police
© William Ernest Henley
Army Reserve; a worshipper of Bobs,
With whom he stripped the smock from Candahar;
Amours De Voyage, Canto V
© Arthur Hugh Clough
Pisa, they say they think, and so I follow to Pisa,
Hither and thither inquiring. I weary of making inquiries.
I am ashamed, I declare, of asking people about it.-
Who are your friends? You said you had friends who would certainly know them.
AN ELEGY Upon S. W. R.
© Henry King
I will not weep, for 'twere as great a sin
To shed a tear for thee, as to have bin
An Actor in thy death. Thy life and age
Was but a various Scene on fortunes Stage,
We're Dreamers All
© Edgar Albert Guest
Oh, man must dream of gladness wherever his pathways lead,
And a hint of something better is written in every creed;
And nobody wakes at morning but hopes ere the day is o'er
To have come to a richer pleasure than ever he's known before.
The Temple - What Makes It Of Worth
© Edgar Albert Guest
For it isn't the marble, nor is it the stone
Nor is it the columns of steel,
By which is the worth of an edifice known;
But it's something that's living and real.
On Being Asked What Was The 'Origin Of Love'
© George Gordon Byron
The 'Origin of Love!'--Ah why
That cruel question ask of me,
When thou may'st read in many an eye
He starts to life on seeing thee?
The Making Of Viola
© Francis Thompson
Smile, sweet baby, smile,
For you will have weeping-while;
Native in your Heaven is smile, -
But your weeping, Viola?
A Royal Cracksman
© Jessie Pope
When the housebreaking business is slack
And cracksmen are finding it slow
In The Forest
© Madison Julius Cawein
One well might deem, among these miles of woods,
Such were the Forests of the Holy Grail,--
A Roman Doll
© Eleanor Agnes Lee
Me in her fresh young arms she bore.
See, I am small,
Only a doll.
But I keep her kiss forevermore.
Color De Cuento
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
¡Oh qué gratas las horas de los tiempos lejanos
en que quiso la infancia regalarnos un cuento!
Dormida por centurias en un bosque opulento,
despertaste a la blanda caricia de mis manos.
Vields by Watervalls
© William Barnes
When our downcast looks be smileless,
Under others' wrongs an' slightens,
When our daily deeds be guileless,
An' do meet unkind requitens,
Remembered Music
© James Russell Lowell
Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast
Of bisons the far prairie shaking,
The notes crowd heavily and fast
As surfs, one plunging while the last
Draws seaward from its foamy breaking.
Sospan Fach
© Robert Graves
Four collier lads from Ebbw Vale
Took shelter from a shower of hail,
And there beneath a spreading tree
Attuned their mouths to harmony.