All Poems
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The Reformer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
ALL grim and soiled and brown with tan,
I saw a Strong One, in his wrath,
Smiting the godless shrines of man
Along his path.
The Last Invocation
© Walt Whitman
From the walls of the powerful fortress'd house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks, from the keep of the well-closed doors,
Let me be wafted.
Let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks-with a whisper,
Set open the doors O soul.
The Cynotaph
© Richard Harris Barham
Poor Tray charmant!
Poor Tray de mon Ami!
- Dog-bury, and Vergers.
Picture of Daniel in the Lion's Den at Hamilton Palace
© William Wordsworth
Amid a fertile region green with wood
And fresh with rivers, well doth it become
Righteous Wrath
© Henry Van Dyke
There are many kinds of anger, as many kinds of fire;
And some are fierce and fatal with murderous desire;
Sacred to the Memory of Unknown
© Henry Lawson
Oh, the wild black swans fly westward still,
While the sun goes down in glory
A Hymn of The Sea
© William Cullen Bryant
The sea is mighty, but a mightier sways
His restless billows. Thou, whose hands have scooped
The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.
© James Beattie
I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
Jewelled Offering
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Jewelled offering bring I none,
Jade or pearl or precious stone,
Urn of crystal, bale of spice,
Unguent culled in Paradise,
"And Yet It Is A Gentle Art!"
© Franklin Pierce Adams
(Parody is a genre frowned upon by your professors
of literature... And yet it is a gentle art--
"The Point of View" in May _Scribner's_.)
Birthday Wishes to a Physician
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Music ringing,
On the air,
Flowers springing
Everywhere.
At Dusk
© Henry Kendall
AT DUSK, like flowers that shun the day,
Shy thoughts from dim recesses break,
And plead for words I dare not say
For your sweet sake.
King And Father
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Mountains and vales, how ye quake 'neath His tread
Wake from your slumbers, He calls, O ye dead!
The Girl He Left Behind
© Edgar Albert Guest
We used to think her frivolousyou know how
parents are,
From The Garden of Heaven
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
And when the spirit of Hafiz has fled,
Follow his bier with a tribute of sighs;
Though the ocean of sin has closed o'er his head,
He may find a place in God's Paradise.
To--
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
BELOVÈD! in this holy hush of night,
I know that thou art looking to the South,
Fair face and cordial brow bathed in the light
Of tender Heavens, and o'er thy delicate mouth
The Hunters Of Men
© John Greenleaf Whittier
HAVE ye heard of our hunting, o'er mountain and glen,
Through cane-brake and forest, the hunting of men?
The lords of our land to this hunting have gone,
As the fox-hunter follows the sound of the horn;
The Earth Laments for Day
© Henry Kendall
THERES music wafting on the air,
The evening winds are sighing
Among the treesand yonder stream
Is mournfully replying,
Lamenting loud the sunny light
That in the west is dying.
