All Poems
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At My Fireside
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
ALONE, beneath the darkened sky,
With saddened heart and unstrung lyre,
I heap the spoils of years gone by,
And leave them with a long-drawn sigh,
Like drift-wood brands that glimmering lie,
Before the ashes hide the fire.
Old Wine
© Margaret Widdemer
IF I could lift
My heart but high enough
My heart could fill with love:
The Children Of The Foam
© William Wilfred Campbell
You may hear our hailing, hailing,
For the voices of our home;
Ride we, ride we, ever home,
Haunted children of the foam.
The Face Of Qana
© Nizar Qabbani
The face of Qana
Pale, like that of Jesus
and the sea breeze of April…
Rains of blood.. and tears..
2
Sent To Mr. Haley, On Reading His Epistles On Epic Poetry
© Henry James Pye
What blooming garlands shall the Muses twine,
What verdant laurels weave, what flowers combine,
Dawn
© Madison Julius Cawein
Mist on the mountain height
Silvery creeping;
Incarnate beads of light
Bloom-cradled sleeping,
Dripped from the brow of Night.
Song of the Foot Track
© Elsie Cole
COME away, come away from the straightness of the road;
I will lead you into delicate recesses
The Hour When We Shall Meet Again
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Dim hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar,
O rise and yoke the turtles to thy car!
Bend o'er the traces, blame each ligering dove!
And give me to the bosom of my love!
On Living Too Long
© Walter Savage Landor
IS it not better at an early hour
In its calm cell to rest the weary head,
While birds are singing and while blooms the bower,
Than sit the fire out and go starvd to bed?
What The Spider Heard
© Weldon Kees
Will there be time for eggnogs and eclogues
In the place where were going?
Said the spider to the fly.
A Vesper
© André Marie de Chénier
O quel que soit ton nom, soit Vesper, soit Phosphore,
Messager de la nuit, messager de l'aurore,
Vesalius In Zante
© Edith Wharton
Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.
I loved light ever, light in eye and brain
No tapers mirrored in long palace floors,
Nor dedicated depths of silent aisles,
But just the common dusty wind-blown day
That roofs earths millions.
State Of Siege
© Arthur Rimbaud
The poor omnibus driver under the tin canopy,
warming a huge chilblain inside his glove,
follows his heavy omnibus along the left bank,
and from his inflated groin thrusts away the moneybag.
Written at Tunbridge--Wells
© Mary Barber
These Plains, so joyous once to me,
Now sadly chang'd appear:
Hortensia I no more can see,
Who patroniz'd me here.
Tam Lin
© Andrew Lang
O I forbid you, maidens a',
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.
It Is You
© Paul Verlaine
It is you, it is you, poor better thoughts!
The needful hope, shame for the ancient blots,
A Poem Served To Order
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE Caliph ordered up his cook,
And, scowling with a fearful look
That meant,--We stand no gammon,--
"To-morrow, just at two," he said,
"Hassan, our cook, will lose his head,
Or serve us up a salmon."
The Hoosier Folk-Child
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Hoosier Folk-Child--all unsung--
Unlettered all of mind and tongue;
Lady Maggie
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear,
For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see;
And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year,
'Twill be little lord or lady at my knee.
