All Poems
/ page 453 of 3210 /The Priests Brother
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Thrice in the night the priest arose
From broken sleep to kneel and pray.
Swifts (2)
© Boris Pasternak
At twilight the swifts have no power,
to hold back that pale blue coolness.
Street Song
© Thom Gunn
I am too young to grow a beard
But yes man it was me you heard
In dirty denim and dark glasses.
I look through everyone who passes
But ask him clear, I do not plead,
Keys Lids acid and speed.
An Unfortunate Likeness
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I'VE painted SHAKESPEARE all my life -
"An infant" (even then at "play"!)
"A boy," with stage-ambition rife,
Then "Married to ANN HATHAWAY."
The Lily Has A Smooth Stalk
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
The lily has a smooth stalk,
Will never hurt your hand;
Witchery Knows!
© William Henry Ogilvie
Witchery knows what it means
When the oats and the barley, the wheat and the beans,
New Year
© Julia A Moore
Farewell to the old year forever,
And all its sorrows and care
We'll bury in our hearts, and endeavor
New troubles and trials to bear.
Earth And Man
© George Meredith
On her great venture, Man,
Earth gazes while her fingers dint the breast
Which is his well of strength, his home of rest,
And fair to scan.
Love's Almsman Plaineth His Fare
© Francis Thompson
O you, love's mendicancy who never tried,
How little of your almsman me you know!
The Creek-Road
© Madison Julius Cawein
CALLING, the heron flies athwart the blue
That sleeps above it; reach on rocky reach
Spring
© Francis Ledwidge
Once more the lark with song and speed
Cleaves through the dawn, his hurried bars^;
Fall, like the flute of Ganymede
Twirling and whistling from the stars.
To A Gentleman, Who Shew'd A Fine Poem As His Own.
© Mary Barber
No more at Criticks, Ned, repine,
Who say those Numbers are not thine.
I own I was suspicious too,
And thought the Verse too good for You:
But since you say those Lines you writ,
The Proof is full, and I submit.
Weariness
© Arthur Symons
I
There are grey hours when I drink of indifference; all things fade
Into the grey of a twilight that covers my soul with its sky;
Scarcely I know that this shade is the world, or this burden is I;
And life, and art, and love, and death, are the shades of a shade.
Don Juan: Canto The Ninth
© George Gordon Byron
Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton'--for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
To Longfellow (On Hearing He Was Ill.)
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
But past the poet crowned I see the friend--
Frank, courteous, true--about whose locks of gray,
Like golden bees, some glints of summer stray;
Clear-eyed, with lips half poised 'twixt smile and sigh;
A brow in whose soul-mirroring manhood blend
Grace, sweetness, power and magnanimity!
Buckle In
© Edgar Albert Guest
JUST about the time the clouds are blackest
Let your thoughts go roving to the sun,
The Sydney International Exhibition
© Henry Kendall
Now, while Orion, flaming south, doth set
A shining foot on hills of wind and wet