All Poems
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You love the Lordyou cannot see
© Emily Dickinson
You love the Lordyou cannot see
You write Himevery day
A little notewhen you awake
And further in the Day.
The Peace Autumn
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THANK God for rest, where none molest,
And none can make afraid;
For Peace that sits as Plenty's guest
Beneath the homestead shade!
The Image Of Death
© Lord Alfred Douglas
I carved an image coloured like the night,
Winged with huge wings, stern-browed and menacing,
Mart. Epi. XLIII. Lib. I.
© Richard Lovelace
Conjugis audisset fatum cum Portia Bruti,
Et substracta sibi quaereret arma dolor,
Nondum scitis, ait, mortem non posse negari,
Credideram satis hoc vos docuisse patrem.
Dixit, et ardentes avido bibit ore favillas.
I nunc, et ferrum turba molesta nega.
The Last Song of Sappho
© Giacomo Leopardi
Thou tranquil night, and thou, O gentle ray
Of the declining moon; and thou, that o'er
The Wind And The Moon
© George MacDonald
Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out!
You stare
In the air
As if crying Beware,
Always looking what I am about:
I hate to be watched; I will blow you out!"
The Maid of Toro
© Sir Walter Scott
O, low shone the sun on the fair lake of Toro,
And weak were the whispers that waved the dark wood,
The Garden
© James Shirley
This Garden does not take my eyes,
Though here you show how art of men
Can purchase Nature at a price
Would stock old Paradise again.
A Vow To Heavenly Venus
© Joachim du Bellay
We that with like hearts love, we lovers twain,
New wedded in the village by thy fane,
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Interlude IV.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And then the blue-eyed Norseman told
A Saga of the days of old.
To The Apennines
© William Cullen Bryant
Your peaks are beautiful, ye Apennines!
In the soft light of these serenest skies;
From the broad highland region, black with pines,
Fair as the hills of Paradise they rise,
Bathed in the tint Peruvian slaves behold
In rosy flushes on the virgin gold.
Song Of The Wheelman
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Down the smooth pavements, and out toward the heather-
Ho! fellows, ho! I am coming you see!
The Value Of A Telephone
© Edgar Albert Guest
LAST night we had a hurry call to go to daughter May,
Her husband said that Ma and me were wanted right away,
An' so, though it was after 12, an' bitter cold outside,
We hustled out of bed an' dressed an' took a trolley ride;
An' Jimthat is her husbandmet us with a gracious bow
An' said to me as we stepped in: "Well, you're a grandpa now."
The Aurora On The Clyde
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
AH me, how heavily the night comes down,
Heavily, heavily:
Fade the curved shores, the blue hills' serried throng,
The darkening waves we oared in light and song:
Occurrence on Washburn Avenue by Regan Huff : American Life in Poetry #212 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La
© Ted Kooser
We've published this column about American life for over four years, and we have finally found a poem about one of the great American pastimes, bowling.
Occurrence on Washburn Avenue
Alice's first strike gets a pat on the back,
A Life's Story
© Edith Nesbit
THE morning broke in a pearly haze,
Then the east grew duskly red:
'Oh, my only day, oh, my day of days,
To-day he will come,' I said.
The Song Maker
© Sara Teasdale
I made a hundred little songs
That told the joy and pain of love,
And sang them blithely, tho' I knew
No whit thereof.
