All Poems

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3210

Love's Rose

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

I.
Hopes, that swell in youthful breasts,
Live not through the waste of time!
Loves rose a host of thorns invests;

Love Magical

© Roderic Quinn

IF you had been where I have been
(Grey, grey the skies above),
And you had seen what I have seen,
You would not laugh at love.

Who Hath Ears To Hear Let Him Hear

© Jones Very

The sun doth not the hidden place reveal,

Whence pours at morn his golden flood of light;

The Unmarried Mother

© France Preseren

What was the need of you, little one,
My baby dear, my darling son,
To me - a girl, a foolish young thing,
A mother without a wedding ring?

WHERE wards are weak and foes encount'ring strong,
Where mightier do assault than do defend,
The feebler part puts up enforc'd wrong,
And silent sees that speech could not amend.
Yet higher powers must think, though they repine,
When sun is set, the little stars will shine.

Daybreak

© John Donne

STAY, O sweet and do not rise!
The light that shines comes from thine eyes;
The day breaks not: it is my heart,
Because that you and I must part.
Stay! or else my joys will die
And perish in their infancy.

A Womans Sonnets: VIII

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

I sue thee not for pity on my case.
If I have sinned, the judgment has begun.
My joy was but one day of all the days,
And clouds have blotted it and hid the sun.

The End Of The Chapter

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Ah, yes, the chapter ends to-day;
We even lay the book away;
But oh, how sweet the moments sped
Before the final page was read!

Broadcaster's Poem

© Alden Nowlan

I thought about places
the disc jockey's voice goes
and the things that happen there
and of how impossible it would be for him
to continue if he really knew.

My Two Geniuses

© George MacDonald

I.

One is a slow and melancholy maid;

Sonnet IX.

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

I NEEDS must praise the natural gifts of one
Who praises not himself, nor seeks for praise;
Too unambitious for these emulous days,
When each small talent seeks the public sun,

My Friend

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

Two days ago with dancing glancing hair,
With living lips and eyes:
Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies;
So pale, yet still so fair.

Greetings!

Do you hear the soft rustle

beside your table?

My Love Annie

SOFT of voice and light of hand
As the fairest in the land--
Who can rightly understand
My love Annie?

Poem At The Centennial Anniversary Dinner Of The Massachusetts Medical Society

Each has his gifts, his losses and his gains,
Each his own share of pleasures and of pains;
No life-long aim with steadfast eye pursued
Finds a smooth pathway all with roses strewed;
Trouble belongs to man of woman born,--
Tread where he may, his foot will find its thorn.

Bread Soup: An Old Icelandic Recipe by Bill Holm: American Life in Poetry #90 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet

© Ted Kooser

Anyone can write a poem that nobody can understand, but poetry is a means of communication, and this column specializes in poems that communicate. What comes more naturally to us than to instruct someone in how to do something? Here the Minnesota poet and essayist Bill Holm, who is of Icelandic parentage, shows us how to make something delicious to eat.