All Poems
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A Captive Throstle
© Alfred Austin
Poor little mite with mottled breast,
Half-fledged, and fallen from the nest,
The Maid O Newton
© William Barnes
In zummer, when the knaps wer bright
In cool-aïr'd evenèn's western light,
The Boy Robert
© Richard Monckton Milnes
The stripling Robert, good and brave,
Holds in his hand a bare--drawn glaive,
And on the altar of the Lord,
He lays it with this earnest word:
To One Threatened With Blindness
© George MacDonald
I.
Lawrence, what though the world be growing dark,
"If I had six white horses"
© Lesbia Harford
If I had six white horses
And six sturdy friends,
I'd sell them into slavery,
If that would gain your ends.
Nest by Marianne Boruch: American Life in Poetry #127 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Poet Marianne Boruch of Indiana finds a bird's nest near her door. It is the simplest of discoveries, yet she uses it to remind us that what at first seems ordinary, even âmade a mess of,â? can be miraculously transformed upon careful reflection.
Nest
Sonnet 19: On Cupid's Bow
© Sir Philip Sidney
On Cupid's bow how are my heartstrings bent,
That see my wrack, and yet embrace the same?
When most I glory, then I feel most shame:
I willing run, yet while I run, repent.
Night
© James Brunton Stephens
Hark how the tremulous night-wind is passing in joy-laden sighs;
Soft through my window it comes, like the fanning of pinions angelic,
Whispering to cease from myself, and look out on the infinite skies.
The Heather Branch
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the pale night air,
From wandering lone in the warm scented wood,
The sighing, shadowy, bright solitude
Of leafy glade, and the rough upland bare,
A Toast
© Lola Ridge
Not your martyrs anointed of heaven -
The ages are red where they trod -
But the Hunted - the world's bitter leaven -
Who smote at your imbecile God -
Wilson
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The lowliest born of all the land,
He wrung from Fate's reluctant hand
The gifts which happier boyhood claims;
And, tasting on a thankless soil
The bitter bread of unpaid toil,
He fed his soul with noble aims.
Of The Boy and Butterfly
© John Bunyan
Behold, how eager this our little boy
Is for a butterfly, as if all joy,
All profits, honours, yea, and lasting pleasures,
Were wrapped up in her, or the richest treasures
Found in her would be bundled up together,
When all her all is lighter than a feather.
Botany Bay 1786
© Anonymous
O'er Neptune's domain, how extensive the scope,
Of quickly returning, how defiant the hope,
he Capes must be doubled, and then bear away
Three thousand good leagues to reach Botany Bay.
Then And Now
© Madison Julius Cawein
When my old heart was young, my dear,
The Earth and Heaven were so near
The Winter's Come
© John Clare
Sweet chestnuts brown like soling leather turn;
The larch trees, like the colour of the Sun;
Sweet Echo Dell
© Henry Clay Work
"Three there were that left my cot;
Two are here, and one is not;
Why does Willie linger? Say, can you tell?"
Epitaph For A Roman Catholic Churchyard
© John Kenyon
Weary centinel of earth,
Grief's companion from my birth,
Couplet 6
© Amir Khusro
Farsi Couplet:
Peeri-o-shaahid parasti naakhush ast,
Khusrova taaki pareshaani hunooz.
