All Poems

/ page 3004 of 3210 /

Order by :

Suicide In The Trenches

© Siegfried Sassoon

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

Café Talk

© Thomas Blackburn

'Of course,' I said, 'we cannot hope to find
What we are looking for in anyone;
They glitter, maybe, but are not the sun,
This pebble here, that bit of apple rind.

An Invitation

© Thomas Blackburn

Holding with shaking hands a letter from some
Official high up he says in the Ministry,
I note that I am invited to Birmingham,
There pedagogues to address for a decent fee.

Hospital For Defectives

© Thomas Blackburn

By your unnumbered charities
A miracle disclose,
Lord of the Images, whose love
The eyelids and the rose

Winter Song

© Katherine Mansfield

Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Will the Summer come again?
Rain on houses, on the street,
Wetting all the people's feet,
Though they run with might and main.
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.

When I was a Bird

© Katherine Mansfield

I climbed up the karaka tree
Into a nest all made of leaves
But soft as feathers.
I made up a song that went on singing all by itself

Waves

© Katherine Mansfield

I saw a tiny God
Sitting
Under a bright blue umbrella
That had white tassels

Voices of the Air

© Katherine Mansfield

But then there comes that moment rare
When, for no cause that I can find,
The little voices of the air
Sound above all the sea and wind.

Villa Pauline

© Katherine Mansfield

But, ah! before he came
You were only a name:
Four little rooms and a cupboard
Without a bone,

Very Early Spring

© Katherine Mansfield

The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky--
So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold.

To L. H. B. (1894-1915 )

© Katherine Mansfield

Last night for the first time since you were dead
I walked with you, my brother, in a dream.
We were at home again beside the stream
Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red.

To God the Father

© Katherine Mansfield

To the little, pitiful God I make my prayer,
The God with the long grey beard
And flowing robe fastened with a hempen girdle
Who sits nodding and muttering on the all-too-big throne

There was a Child Once

© Katherine Mansfield

There was a child once.
He came--quite alone--to play in my garden;
He was pale and silent.
When we met we kissed each other,
But when he went away, we did not even wave

There Is a Solemn Wind Tonight

© Katherine Mansfield

There is a solemn wind to-night
That sings of solemn rain;
The trees that have been quiet so long
Flutter and start again.

The Wounded Bird

In the wide bed
Under the freen embroidered quilt
With flowers and leaves always in soft motion
She is like a wounded bird resting on a pool.

The Town Between the Hills

He nodded his head
And made her a sign
To sit under the spray
Of a trailing vine.

The Storm

I Ran to the forest for shelter,
Breathless, half sobbing;
I put my arms round a tree,
Pillowed my head against the rough bark.

The Secret

In the profoundest ocean
There is a rainbow shell,
It is always there, shining most stilly
Under the greatest storm waves

The Sea-Child

Into the world you sent her, mother,
Fashioned her body of coral and foam,
Combed a wave in her hair's warm smother,
And drove her away from home

The Quarrel

Our quarrel seemed a giant thing,
It made the room feel mean and small,
The books, the lamp, the furniture,
The very pictures on the wall--