All Poems
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Rain
© Madison Julius Cawein
Around, the stillness deepened; then the grain
Went wild with wind; and every briery lane
Mors Dei.
© Robert Crawford
Methought I saw God dying, and
The millions round His bed;
And all in every planet knew
They'd pass when He was dead.
A Contrast
© James Russell Lowell
Thy love thou sendest oft to me,
And still as oft I thrust it back;
Thy messengers I could not see
In those who everything did lack,
The poor, the outcast and the black.
The Influence Of Lust
© Leon Gellert
With padded feet from out his own dark den
Comes smiling Lust, once fair and hard to
please,
But now long overworked with dabbling men,
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto VIII.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III The Kiss
I saw you take his kiss! 'Tis true.
O, modesty! 'Twas strictly kept:
He thought me asleep; at least, I knew
He thought I thought he thought I slept.
The Sylphs Of The Seasons
© Washington Allston
Long has it been my fate to hear
The slave of Mammon, with a sneer,
Over The Sea
© Robert Laurence Binyon
There came an evening when the storm had died
After long rain, miraculously clear:
And lo, across the burning waters wide
Rose up that coast, to thee and me how dear.
Song--Autumn
© George Meredith
When nuts behind the hazel-leaf
Are brown as the squirrel that hunts them free,
And the fields are rich with the sun-burnt sheaf,
'Mid the blue cornflower and the yellowing tree;
And the farmer glows and beams in his glee;
Stanzas For Music
© Robert Fuller Murray
I loved a little maiden
In the golden years gone by;
She lived in a mill, as they all do
(There is doubtless a reason why).
We're Coming! We're Coming!
© Anonymous
We're coming, we're coming, the fearless and free,
Like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea!
Hesperides
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
If thy soul, Herrick, dwelt with me,
This is what my songs would be:
Soneto
© Gregorio de Matos Guerra
Ilha de Itaparica, alvas areias,
Alegres praias, frescas, deleitosas;
Ricos polvos, lagostas deliciosas,
Farta de putas, rica de baleias.
A Tale Of True Love
© Alfred Austin
Not in the mist of legendary ages,
Which in sad moments men call long ago,
And people with bards, heroes, saints, and sages,
And virtues vanished, since we do not know,
But here to-day wherein we all grow old,
But only we, this Tale of True Love will be told.
The Waster Singing at Midnight
© Robert Fuller Murray
Loud he sang the song Ta Phershon
For his personal diversion,
Sang the chorus U-pi-dee,
Sang about the Barley Bree.
Epitaph On Her Son H. P. At St. Syths Church Wher Her Body Also Lies Interred
© Katherine Philips
What on Earth deserves our trust ?
Youth and Beauty both are dust.
Long we gathering are with pain,
What one moment calls again.
A Carrion
© Allen Tate
Remember now, my Love, what piteous thing
We saw on a summer's gracious day:
By the roadside a hideous carrion, quivering
On a clean bed of pebbly clay,
Scrub Cattle
© Norma L Davies
Their breath is warm and sweet. It holds the smell
Of wind-brown grass and little fragrant flowers:
