All Poems
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Sonnet XVI
© Alan Seeger
Who shall invoke her, who shall be her priest,
With single rites the common debt to pay?
Woodspring Abbey
© William Lisle Bowles
These walls were built by men who did a deed
Of blood:--terrific conscience, day by day,
The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XXI: Abel Keene
© George Crabbe
merchant's son,
Choice spirits all, who wish'd him to be one;
It must, no question, give them lively joy,
Hopes long indulged to combat and destroy;
At these they levelled all their skill and
Epitaph
© Lascelles Abercrombie
ir, you shall notice me: I am the Man;
I am Good Fortune: I am satisfied.
I Faint, I Perish With My Love!
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I faint, I perish with my love! I grow
Frail as a cloud whose [splendours] pale
Under the evening's ever-changing glow:
I die like mist upon the gale,
And like a wave under the calm I fail
Faintheart In A Railway Train
© Thomas Hardy
At nine in the morning there passed a church,
At ten there passed me by the sea,
At twelve a town of smoke and smirch,
At two a forest of oak and birch,
And then, on a platform, she:
A La Sante
© André Marie de Chénier
Allons, muse rustique, enfant de la nature,
Détache ces cheveux, ceins ton front de verdure,
The Wooing Of Gheezis
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
The red chief Gheezis, chief of the golden wampum, lay
And watched the west-wind blow adrift the clouds,
Jaspar
© Robert Southey
Jaspar was poor, and want and vice
Had made his heart like stone,
And Jaspar look'd with envious eyes
On riches not his own.
Scenes In London IV - The City Churchyard
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
I PRAY thee lay me not to rest
Among these mouldering bones;
Too heavily the earth is prest
By all these crowded stones.
The Hail-Storm (From The Norse)
© George Borrow
When from our ships we bounded,
I heard, with fear astounded,
Vanity Of Spirit
© Henry Vaughan
Quite spent with thoughts, I left my cell and lay
Where a shrill spring tuned to the early day.
The Voices Of The Rain
© Roderic Quinn
LAST night, when under troubled skies
The storm went marching o'er the plain,
An elfin music seemed to rise,
A singing in the rain.
The Gardens
© Emile Verhaeren
The landscape now reveals a change;
A stair--that twinèd elm-boughs hold
Enclosed 'mid hedges mystic, strange--
Inaugurates a green and gold
Vision of gardens, range on range.
A Womans Sonnets: XI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Wild words I write, and lettered in deep pain,
To lay in your loved hand as love's farewell.
It is the thought we shall not meet again
Nerves me to write and my whole secret tell.
