All Poems
/ page 411 of 3210 /To Philip Bourke Marston, Inciting Me To Poetic Work
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
SWEET Poet, thou of whom these years that roll
Must one day yet the burdened birthright learn,
What Would It Be?
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Now what were the words of Jesus,
And what would He pause and say,
The Voice
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
There is a voice inside of you
that whispers all day long,
"I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong."
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
He slept as only under the free heaven
It is given to sleep, a slumber shadowless
As the broad river to whose banks at even
That spirit comes which brings forgetfulness,
The Sixth Olympic Ode Of Pindar
© Henry James Pye
A sudden thought I raptur'd feel,
Which, as the whetstone points the steel,
Brightens my sense, and bids me warbling raise
To the soft-breathing flute, the kindred notes of praise.
All White Continued
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Ah, beautiful sweet woman, made in vain,
Since Launcelot is dead and only I,
Alas for this new world of recreant men,
Remain in age Love's creed to justify
A Paraphrase On The Latter Part Of The Sixth Chapter Of St Matthew
© James Thomson
When my breast labours with oppressive care,
And o'er my cheek descends the falling tear:
Harry (Engaged To Be Married) To Charley (Who Is Not)
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
To all my fond rhapsodies, Charley,
You have wearily listened, I fear;
Shakespeare's Festival
© Katharine Lee Bates
WHILE we keep our Poet's Tercentennial,
Every school and city with its emulous
"To cure wounds is so rigid"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
To cure wounds is so rigid:
They drank the air and poisoned bread.
Young Joseph who was sold to Egypt
Could not be more deathly sad!
Assassination
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O BLINDED readers of the scroll of time,
Think ye that freedom yields her hand to crime?
Or the fair whiteness of her virginal bud
Of heavenly hope, would desecrate with blood?
On A Very Old Glass At Market-Hill
© Jonathan Swift
Frail glass! thou mortal art as well as I;
Though none can tell which of us first shall die.
Poetry
© George Meredith
Grey with all honours of age! but fresh-featured and ruddy
As dawn when the drowsy farm-yard has thrice heard Chaunticlere.
Tender to tearfulness-childlike, and manly, and motherly;
Here beats true English blood richest joyance on sweet English ground.
The Cloud-Star
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
FAR up within the tranquil sky,
Far up it shone;
Floating, how gently, silently,
Floating alone!
Merry Maid
© John Clare
Bonny and stout and brown, without a hat,
She frowns offended when they call her fat--
After The Play
© Robert Graves
Ay, father I have.
A fourpence on cakes, two pennies that away
To a beggar I gave.
A Mlle Fanny de P.
© Victor Marie Hugo
Ô vous que votre âge défend,
Riez ! tout vous caresse encore.
Jouez ! chantez ! soyez l'enfant !
Soyez la fleur ; soyez l'aurore !
Joseph Made Known To His Brethren
© John Newton
When Joseph his brethren beheld,
Afflicted and trembling with fear;