All Poems
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Antony's Friend.
© Robert Crawford
Bring me my robes and crown!
I must make a brave end,
Charmian, fitting the renown
Of Antony's friend.
Lines Written Beneath A Picture
© George Gordon Byron
Dear object of defeated care!
Though now of Love and thee bereft,
To reconcile me with despair,
Thing image and any tears are left.
Trees And The Menace Of Night
© William Ernest Henley
Thro' the trees in the strange dead night,
Under the vast dead sky,
Forgetting and forgot, a drift of Dead
Sets to the mystic mere, the phantom fell,
And the unimagined vastitudes beyond.
What Think Ye Of Christ?
© John Newton
What think you of Christ? is the test
To try both your state and your scheme;
Letter
© Victor Marie Hugo
You can see it already: chalks and ochers;
Country crossed with a thousand furrow-lines;
Lars
© Celia Thaxter
"Tell us a story of these Isles," they said,
The daughters of the West, whose eyes had seen
For the first time the circling sea, instead
Of the blown prairie's waves of grassy green:
O Thou Breeze of Spring!
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
O thou breeze of spring!
Gladdening sea and shore,
A Billet Doux
© George Moses Horton
My brightest hopes are mix'd with tears,
Like hues of light and gloom;
As when mid sun-shine rain appears,
Love rises with a thousand fears,
Adventurers
© Lesbia Harford
This morning I got up before the sun
Had seized the hill,
And scrambled heart-hot, noisy, past each one
In sleep laid still.
Son, Thou Must Love Me
© Paul Verlaine
"Son, thou must love me! See" my Saviour said,
"My heart that glows and bleeds, my wounded side,
My hurt feet that the Magdalene, wet-eyed,
Clasps kneeling, and my tortured arms outspread
Two Boys And A Cigarette
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Two bright little fellows, named Harry and Will,
Were just the same age and the same size until
Wrestling
© John Crowe Ransom
AT last came threshing-time, the manly season.
We kept the thresher thundering by daylight,
Untitled Poem - III
© Alan Dugan
Why feel guilty because the death of a lover causes lust?
It is only an animal urge to perpetuate the species,
"O Earth, Art Not Thou Weary?"
© Julia Caroline (Ripley) Dorr
O Earth! art thou not weary of thy graves?
Dear, patient Mother Earth, upon thy breast
Italy : 18. The Brides Of Venice
© Samuel Rogers
It was St. Mary's Eve, and all poured forth
As to some grand solemnity. The fisher
Came from his islet, bringing o'er the waves
His wife and little one; the husbandman
