All Poems
/ page 415 of 3210 /Similes For Two Political Characters of 1819
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
As from an ancestral oak
Two empty ravens sound their clarion,
Yell by yell, and croak by croak,
When they scent the noonday smoke
Of fresh human carrion:--
To Anna Three Years Old
© John Clare
My Anna, summer laughs in mirth,
And we will of the party be,
And leave the crickets in the hearth
For green fields' merry minstrelsy.
Unrest In Autumn
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Beside my window sighs the last lone rose,
Saying, Alas! farewell! Youth's all but dead.
Sonnet V.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled
To see thee, poor old man! and thy gray hairs
Hoar with the snowy blast; while no one cares
To clothe thy shrivelled limbs and palsied head.
Rejoyce chast Queen of Angels, and apply
© John Austin
Rejoyce chast Queen of Angels, and apply
All those blest Quires to sing this Victory:
He that was born of Thee, and dy'd for us,
Has conquer'd death; is risen glorious:
Sing then, and in thy hymns this mercy crave,
That thy great Son our souls in Judgment save.
Grief An Gladness
© William Barnes
"Can all be still, when win's do blow?
Look down the grove an' zee
On The Aphorism
© Charlotte Turner Smith
"L'Amitié est l'Amour sans ailes."
FRIENDSHIP, as some sage poet sings,
In Memorium: Lady Caroline Charteris
© George MacDonald
The mountain-stream may humbly boast
For her the loud waves call;
The hamlet feeds the nation's host,
The home-farm feeds the hall;
Memory
© Charles Lamb
"For gold could Memory be bought,
What treasures would she not be worth?
If from afar she could be brought,
I'd travel for her through the earth!"
After Death
© Edith Nesbit
IF we must part, this parting is the best:
How would you bear to lay
Your head on some warm pillow far away--
Your head, so used to lying on my breast?
Fiddler Of Dooney
© William Butler Yeats
WHEN I play on my fiddle in Dooney.
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
FROM THE FRENCH OF ANVERS
My heart has its secret, my soul its mystery,
A love which is eternal begotten in a day.
The ill is long past healing. Why should I speak to--day?
The Pessimist
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
You that have snarled through the ages, take your answer and go--
I know your hoary question, the riddle that all men know.
You have weighed the stars in a balance, and grasped the skies in a span:
Take, if you must have answer, the word of a common man.
From the Persian of Hafiz II
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Of Paradise, O hermit wise,
Let us renounce the thought.
Of old therein our names of sin
Allah recorded not.
Salomes Lament
© Arthur Symons
Why did I have thee slain? Herodias' desire,
John; yea, I loved thee! They made me at the feast
Graves Of Infants
© John Clare
Infant' graves are steps of angels, where
Earth's brightest gems of innocence repose.
"Today is rebels' day. And yet we work"
© Lesbia Harford
Today is rebels' day. And yet we work
All of us rebels, until day is done.
And when the stars come out we celebrate
A revolution that's not yet begun.