All Poems
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Epitaph On Mrs. M. Higgins, Of Weston
© William Cowper
Laurels may flourish round the conqueror's tomb,
But happiest they who win the world to come:
Believers have a silent field to fight,
And their exploits are veiled from human sight.
A Divine Rapture
© Francis Quarles
E'EN like two little bank-dividing brooks,
That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams,
And having ranged and search'd a thousand nooks,
Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames,
Where in a greater current they conjoin:
So I my Best-beloved's am; so He is mine.
Come With The Summer Leaves
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Come with the summer leaves, love, to my grave,
And, if you doubt among the quiet dead,
Choose out that mound where greenest grasses wave
And where the flowers grow thickest and most red.
Questions And Answers
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHERE, oh where are the visions of morning,
Fresh as the dews of our prime?
Gone, like tenants that quit without warning,
Down the back entry of time.
Invocation
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Through Thy clear spaces, Lord, of old,
Formless and void the dead earth rolled;
Deaf to Thy heaven's sweet music, blind
To the great lights which o'er it shined;
No sound, no ray, no warmth, no breath,--
A dumb despair, a wandering death.
Alone
© Edgar Albert Guest
Strange thoughts come to the man alone;
'Tis then, if ever, he talks with God,
Nature At Ease
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I FEEL the kisses of this lingering breeze,
Warm, close, and ardent as the lips of love,
I quaff the sunshine streaming from above,
Like mellow wine of antique vintages;
Lucasta's Fanne, With A Looking- Glasse In It
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Eastrich! thou featherd foole, and easie prey,
That larger sailes to thy broad vessell needst;
Snakes through thy guttur-neck hisse all the day,
Then on thy iron messe at supper feedst.
The Swan
© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
I'll leave the mortal world behind,
Take wing in an flight fantastical,
With singing, my eternal soul
Will rise up swan-like in the air.
On A Fortification At Boston Begun By Women
© Benjamin Tompson
A Grand attempt some Amazonian Dames
Contrive whereby to glorify their names,
His Power Bounded, Greater Is His Might
© Thomas Traherne
His Power bounded, greater is in might,
Than if let loose, 'twere wholly infinite.
Joy that's half too keen, and true
© Augusta Davies Webster
Joy that's half too keen, and true,
Makes us tears.
Oh! the sweetness of the tears!
If such joy at hand appears,
Bismarck at Canossa: Sonnets
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
NOT ALL disgraced, in that Italian town,
The imperial German cowered beneath thine hand,
Adagio
© François Coppée
Depuis, je mène ailleurs mes promenades lentes.
Moi qui hais et qui fuis les foules turbulentes,
Je regrette parfois ce vieux coin négligé.
Mais la vieille ruelle a, dit-on, bien changé :
Les enfants d'alentour y vont jouer aux billes,
Et d'autres pianos l'emplissent de quadrilles.
Sandys Ghost ; A Proper Ballad on the New Ovid's Metamorphosis
© Alexander Pope
Ye Lords and Commons, Men of Wit,
And Pleasure about Town;
Read this ere you translate one Bit
Of Books of high Renown.
The Garrison of Cape Ann
© John Greenleaf Whittier
From the hills of home forth looking, far beneath the tent-like span
Of the sky, I see the white gleam of the headland of Cape Ann.
Well I know its coves and beaches to the ebb-tide glimmering down,
And the white-walled hamlet children of its ancient fishing town.
Crows Calling At Night
© Li Po
Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows near the tower.
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.
She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.
She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.
