All Poems
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When She Cries
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
No one knows my lady when she's lonely
No one sees the fantasies and fears my lady hides
There are those who've shared her love and laughter
But no one hears my lady when she cries
but me
Speech Of Honourable Preserved Doe In Secret Caucus
© James Russell Lowell
But I've talked longer now 'n I hed any idee,
An' ther's others you want to hear more 'n you du me;
So I'll set down an' give thet 'ere bottle a skrimmage,
For I've spoke till I'm dry ez a real graven image.
The Canadian Country Doctor
© William Henry Drummond
I s'pose mos'ev'ry body t'ink hees job's
about de hardes'
A castle stands neath western skies
© Bernhard Severin Ingemann
A castle stands neath western skies
Gold shields its roof have studded;
Late Loved--Well Loved
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
He stood beside her in the dawn
(And she his Dawn and she his Spring),
I Am Part Of The Load
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
I am part of the load
Not rightly balanced
I drop off in the grass,
like the old Cave-sleepers, to browse
wherever I fall.
The Irrepressible Yank
© George Ade
Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Irrepressible Yank,
A regular traveling board of trade,
And a two-legged sort of a bank,
If you deal with him and don't get left,
Your lucky stars you'll thank.
This Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Irrepressible Yank.
The Voice that Sings
© Robert Fuller Murray
The voice that sings across the night
Of long forgotten days and things,
Is there an ear to hear aright
The voice that sings?
The Land Of The Living
© Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
I know of a land
Where hair does not grey, and where times rule is banned,
Where sun does not burn, and where wave does not ring,
Where autumn embraces the blossoming spring,
Where morning and evening unceasingly dance
In noons brightest glance.
Zone
© Louise Bogan
We have struck the regions wherein we are keel or reef.
The wind breaks over us,
And against high sharp angles almost splits into words,
And these are of fear or grief.
Flame And Snow
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The bare branches rose against the gray sky.
Under them, freshly fallen, snow shone to the eye.
Up the hill--slope, over the brow it shone,
Spreading an immaterial beauty to tread upon.
The Merchant Of Venice: A Legend Of Italy
© Richard Harris Barham
With a pack,
Like a sack
Of old clothes at his back,
And three hats on his head, Shylock came in a crack,
Saying, 'Rest you fair, Signior Antonio!- vat, pray,
Might your vorship be pleashed for to vant in ma vay!'
Oglethorpe
© Madison Julius Cawein
An Ode to be read on the laying of the foundation
stone of the new Oglethorpe University,
A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim
© Walt Whitman
A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim,
As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless,
As slow I walk in the cool fresh air the path near by the hospital tent,
Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there untended lying,
Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woolen blanket,
Gray and heavy blanket, folding, covering all.
Sonnet Cycle For Lady Magdalen
© John Donne
Her of your name, whose fair inheritance
Bethina was, and jointure Magdalo:
Metempsychosis
© Kenneth Slessor
SUDDENLY to become John Benbow, walking down William Street
With a tin trunk and a five-pound note, looking for a place to eat,
And a peajacket the colour of a shark's behind
That a Jew might buy in the morning. . . .
