All Poems
/ page 289 of 3210 /On the Same - (On the Burning of Lord Mansfield's Library)
© William Cowper
When wit and genius meet their doom
In all devouring flame,
They tell us of the fate of Rome,
And bid us fear the same.
Patriotism
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Is the tree living I once thought dead?
Mo chraoibhin aoibhinn O,
Butterflies
© Haniel Long
There will be butterflies,
There will be summer skies
And flowers upthrust,
When all that Caesar bids,
And all the pyramids
Are dust.
The Humstrum
© William Barnes
Why woonce, at Chris'mas-tide, avore
The wold year wer a-reckon'd out,
Fragoletta
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
O LOVE! what shall be said of thee?
The son of grief begot by joy?
Being sightless, wilt thou see?
Being sexless, wilt thou be
Maiden or boy?
Liberation
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Deep in these thoughts, more tender than a sky
Whose light ebbs far as in futurity,
Deep, deeper yet my blessed spirit steep,
Singing of you still; you and only you
The Little Book
© John Newton
When the beloved disciple took
The angels' little open book,
Which by the Lord's command he eat,
It tasted bitter after sweet.
Mithridates At Chios
© John Greenleaf Whittier
KNOW'ST thou, O slave-cursed land!
How, when the Chian's cup of guilt
An Australian Girl
© Ethel Castilla
"She's pretty to walk with,
And witty to talk with,
And pleasant, too, to think on."
Sir John Suckling.
Geotheos
© Ambrose Bierce
As sweet as the look of a lover
Saluting the eyes of a maid
That blossom to blue as the maid
Is ablush to the glances above her,
The sunshine is gilding the glade
And lifting the lark out of shade.
Lilac And Gold And Green
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lilac and gold and green!
Those are the colours I love the best,
Spring's own raiment untouched and clean,
When the world is awake and yet hardly dressed,
The Birth Of Flattery
© George Crabbe
Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing
The passions all, their bearings and their ties;
Sporting Acquaintances
© Siegfried Sassoon
I ventured "Ages since we met," and tried
My candid smile of friendship; no success.
One scratched his hairy thigh, while t'other sighed
And glanced away. I saw they liked me less
Than when, on Epsom Downs, in cloudless weather,
We backed The Tetrarch and got drunk together.
The Horse Of Your Heart
© William Henry Ogilvie
When you've ridden a four-year-old half of the day
And, foam to the fetlock, they lead him away,
They Shall Not Win
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Whatever the strength of our foes is now,
Whatever it may have been,
This is our slogan, and this our vow-
They shall not win, they shall not win.
An Indian Mother About to Destroy Her Child
© James Montgomery
Awhile she lay all passive to the touch
Beethoven In Central Park
© Alfred Noyes
Then, in a place of whispering leaves and gloom,
I saw, too dark, too dumb for bronze or stone,
One tragic head that bowed against the sky;
O, in a hush too deep for any tomb
I saw Beethoven, dreadfully alone
With his own grief, and his own majesty.
Our First War-Christmas
© Katharine Lee Bates
HARD to wait for the postman's tramp
Up the snowy walk, for the hand that gropes
The Wind Of Winter
© Madison Julius Cawein
The Winter Wind, the wind of death,
Who knocked upon my door,
Now through the keyhole entereth,
Invisible and hoar:
He breathes around his icy breath
And treads the flickering floor.