All Poems
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Alice And Una. A Tale Of Ceim-An-Eich
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
With a sigh for what is fading, but, O Earth! with no upbraiding,
For we feel that time is braiding newer, fresher flowers for thee,
We will speak, despite our grieving, words of loving and believing,
Tales we vowed when we were leaving awful Ceim-an-eich,
Where the sever'd rocks resemble fragments of a frozen sea,
And the wild deer flee!
The Doer Of Good
© Oscar Wilde
And when He came near He heard within the city the tread of the
feet of joy, and the laughter of the mouth of gladness and the loud
noise of many lutes. And He knocked at the gate and certain of the
gate-keepers opened to Him.
Heredity
© John Liddell Kelly
But sadness mingles with my selfish joy,
At thought of what you may be called to bear.
Oh, passionate maid! Oh, glad, impulsive boy!
Your father's sad experience you must share -
Self-torture, the unfeeling world's annoy,
Gross pleasure, fierce exultance, grim despair!
Charity : A Paraphrase On 1 Cor. Chap. 13
© Matthew Prior
Did sweeter Sounds adorn my flowing Tongue,
Than ever Man pronounc'd, or Angel sung:
Beautiful River
© Robert Wadsworth Lowry
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
The Faun
© Madison Julius Cawein
The joys that touched thee once, be mine!
The sympathies of sky and sea,
The friendships of each rock and pine,
That made thy lonely life, ah me!
In Tempe or in Gargaphie.
At Parting
© Madison Julius Cawein
What is there left for us to say,
Now it has come to say good-by?
And all our dreams of yesterday
Have vanished in the sunset sky--
What is there left for us to say,
Now different ways before us lie?
The Rose
© Jones Very
The rose thou show'st me has lost all its hue,
For thou dost seem to me than it less fair;
A Low Temple
© Arun Kolatkar
A low temple keeps its gods in the dark.
You lend a matchbox to the priest.
One by one the gods come to light.
Second Sunday In Lent
© John Keble
"And is there in God's world so drear a place
Where the loud bitter cry is raised in vain?
Where tears of penance come too late for grace,
As on the uprooted flower the genial rain?"
Lines Written in Windsor Forest
© Alexander Pope
All hail, once pleasing, once inspiring shade!
Scene of my youthful loves and happier hours!
On Being Twenty-six
© Philip Larkin
I feared these present years,
The middle twenties,
When deftness disappears,
And each event is
Freighted with a source-encrusting doubt,
And turned to drought.
In The Servants' Quarters
© Thomas Hardy
'Man, you too, aren't you, one of these rough followers of the criminal?
All hanging hereabout to gather how he's going to bear
Examination in the hall.' She flung disdainful glances on
The shabby figure standing at the fire with others there,
Who warmed them by its flare.
Euthanasia
© George Gordon Byron
When Time, or soon or late, shall bring
The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead,
Oblivion! may thy languid wing
Wave gently o'er my dying bed!
The House of Peers
© William Schwenck Gilbert
When Britain really ruled the waves -
(In good Queen Bess's time)
Of The Dawn Of Freedom
© James Russell Lowell
Careless seems the great Avenger;
Historys lessons but recorded
To The Soldiers Of Pius Ninth
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Warriors true, tis no false glory
For which now you peril life,
Language Lessons by Alexandra Teague : American Life in Poetry #223 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
There's lots of literature about the loss of innocence, because we all share in that loss and literature is about what we share. Here's a poem by Alexandra Teague, a San Franciscan, in which a child's awakening to the alphabet coincides with another awakening: the unsettling knowledge that all of us don't see things in the same way.
Language Lessons
The carpet in the kindergarten room
