All Poems
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The Return to Ulster
© Sir Walter Scott
Once again,- but how chang'd since my wand'rings began-
I have heard the deep voice of the Lagan and Bann,
Welcome To Winter
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
NOW, with wild and windy roar,
Stalwart Winter comes once more,--
O'er our roof-tree thunders loud,
And from edges of black cloud
The Shape of Death
© May Swenson
What does love look like? We know
the shape of death. Death is a cloud
immense and awesome. At first a lid
is lifted from the eye of light:
there is a clap of sound, a white blossom
The Ring And The Book - Chapter III - The Other Half-Rome
© Robert Browning
ANOTHER DAY that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
On Receiving Heyne's Virgil From Mr. Hayley
© William Cowper
I should have deemed it once an effort vain
To sweeten more sweet Maro's matchless strain,
But from that error now behold me free,
Since I received him as a gift from thee.
"My window pane is broken"
© Lesbia Harford
My window pane is broken
Just a bit
Where the small curtain doesn't
Cover it.
The Penalty
© Rudyard Kipling
Once in life I watched a Star;
But I whistled, "Let her go!
There are others, fairer far,
Which my favouring skies shall show
Here I lied, and herein I
Stood to pay the penalty.
To-----
© Muriel Stuart
Between two common days this day was hung
When Love went to the ending that was his;
His seamless robe was rent, his bow was wrong,
He took at last the sponge's bitter kiss.
Chanson Dada
© Tristan Tzara
this is the song of a dadaist
who had dada in his heart
he tore his motor apart
he had dada in his heart
An Aboriginal Mother's Lament: Early Version
© Charles Harpur
O moan not! I would give this braid
Thy fathers gift to me
For but a single palmful
Of water now for thee.
Italy : 19. Foscari
© Samuel Rogers
Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber. Now a sigh,
And now a groan is heard. Then all is still.
Twenty are sitting as in judgement there;
On The Death Of ---
© Richard Monckton Milnes
I'm not where I was yesterday,
Though my home be still the same,
For I have lost the veriest friend
Whom ever a friend could name;
Polarities
© Kenneth Slessor
SOMETIMES she is like sherry, like the sun through a vessel of glass,
Like light through an oriel window in a room of yellow wood;
Sometimes she is the colour of lions, of sand in the fire of noon,
Sometimes as bruised with shadows as the afternoon.
Pelasgian And Cyclopean Walls
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Ye cliffs of masonry, enormous piles,
Which no rude censure of familiar Time
Nor record of our puny race defiles,
In dateless mystery ye stand sublime,
Memorials of an age of which we see
Only the types in things that once were Ye.
The Trenches
© Frederic Manning
Endless lanes sunken in the clay,
Bays, and traverses, fringed with wasted herbage,
Richard and Kate: A suffolk Ballad
© Robert Bloomfield
'Come, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel,
Sweep up your orts, and get your Hat;
Old joys reviv'd once more I feel,
'Tis Fair-day;--ay, _and more than that._
The Art Of War. Book II.
© Henry James Pye
The season form'd to fan more pleasing fires,
Parent of blooming hopes and young desires,
When smiling Graces every flower combine,
The blooming wreaths of Love and Peace to twine,
Tempts only now to scenes of blood and death
The daring Warrior urg'd by Glory's breath.
Troilus And Cresida
© William Wordsworth
FROM CUAUCER
NEXT morning Troilus began to clear
His eyes from sleep, at the first break of day,
And unto Pandarus, his own Brother dear,
