All Poems
/ page 315 of 3210 /The Inevitable
© Sarah Knowles Bolton
I LIKE the man who faces what he must
With step triumphant and a heart of cheer;
The Girl At The Harp.
© Arthur Henry Adams
LIKE Clotho, at her harp she sits and weaves
With mystic fingers from the swaying strings
A melody that ever louder sings
And my charmed heart in vibrant rapture leaves
Before The Dawn
© Arlo Bates
In the hush of the morn before the sun
I waken to think of thee
And all the sweet day thus begun
As hallowed sees to be.
June
© Edgar Albert Guest
June is here, the month of roses, month of brides and month of bees,
Weaving garlands for our lassies, whispering love songs in the trees,
Painting scenes of gorgeous splendor, canvases no man could brush,
Changing scenes from early morning till the sunset's crimson flush.
Answered Extempore By Dr. Swift
© Jonathan Swift
We both are mortal; but thou, frailer creature,
May'st die, like me, by chance, but not by nature.
To Quintus Dellius
© Eugene Field
Be tranquil, Dellius, I pray;
For though you pine your life away
With dull complaining breath,
Or speed with song and wine each day,
Still, still your doom is death.
Frog Autumn
© Sylvia Plath
Summer grows old, cold-blooded mother.
The insects are scant, skinny.
In these palustral homes we only
Croak and wither.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXIV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And here too I, the latest fool of Time,
Sad child of doubt and passionate desires,
Touched with all pity, yet in league with crime,
Watched the red sunsets from the Alpine spires,
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book III
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Night.
O Trivia, goddess, leave these low abodes,
Don't You See?
© Katharine Lee Bates
The day was hotter than words can tell,
So hot the jelly-fish wouldn't jell.
The halibut went all to butter,
And the catfish had only force to utter
A faint sea-mew - aye, though some have doubted,
The carp he capered and the horn-pout pouted.
Grief
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Grief is like a child,
Led with relentless hand
By a strange nurse, whose face
Seems never to have smiled,
Sudden Joy
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O what magic shall compare
Of the fresh earth or bright air
To the joy that love around
My full heart so swift has wound,
Far beyond hope's trembling flight
Back recoiling in delight.
On The Slain Collegians
© Herman Melville
Youth is the time when hearts are large,
And stirring wars
A Prayer { For Those Who Shall Return}
© Katharine Tynan
LORD, when they come back again
From the dreadful battlefield
To the common ways of men,
Be Thy mercy, Lord, revealed!
Make them to forget the dread
Fields of dying and the dead!
To His Grace The Duke Of Buckingham And Normanby, At The Camp Before Philipsburgh.
© Mary Barber
SHEFFIELD, since martial Ardor fires your Breast,
Make Albion only in that Ardor blest;
Nor yet by War alone exalt thy Name;
Give Science her hereditary Claim:
Return, brave Youth! your longing Country grace;
Think what you owe Britannia, and your Race.
Love, Though For This You Riddle Me With Darts
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Love, though for this you riddle me with darts,
And drag me at your chariot till I die,--
The Forsaken
© Thomas Hood
The dead are in their silent graves,
And the dew is cold above,
And the living weep and sigh,
Over dust that once was love.
Accomplishment
© Jane Taylor
HOW is it that masters, and science, and art,
One spark of intelligence fail to impart,
Unless in that chemical union combined,
Of which the result, in one word, is a mind ?