All Poems
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The Moon And The Yew Tree
© Sylvia Plath
"This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary.
The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.
The grasses unload their griefs at my feet as if I were God,
Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility.
The Butter Betty Bought
© Carolyn Wells
Betty Botta bought some butter;
"But," said she, "this butter's bitter!
The Joys We Miss
© Edgar Albert Guest
There never comes a lonely day but that we miss the laughing ways
Of those who used to walk with us through all our happy yesterdays.
We seldom miss the earthly great-the famous men that life has known-
But, as the years go racing by, we miss the friends we used to own.
Dulciora
© Henry Van Dyke
A tear that trembles for a little while
Upon the trembling eyelid, till the world
Wavers within its circle like a dream,
Holds more of meaning in its narrow orb
Than all the distant landscape that it blurs.
Advice: to himself
© Gaius Valerius Catullus
Sad Catullus, stop playing the fool,
and let what you know leads you to ruin, end.
On The Death Of Prince Meshchersky
© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
O, Voice of time! O, metal's clang!
Your dreadful call distresses me,
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book V - Pativrata-Mahatmya - (Woman's Love)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The great _rishi_ Vyasa came to visit Yudhishthir, and advised Arjun,
great archer as he was, to acquire celestial arms by penance and
worship. Arjun followed the advice, met the god SIVA in the guise
of a hunter, pleased him by his prowess in combat, and obtained his
blessings and the _pasupata_ weapon. Arjun then went to INDRA'S
heaven and obtained other celestial arms.
The Penitent's Return
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
My father's house once more,
In its own moonlight beauty! yet around,
Something, amidst the dewy calm profound,
Broods, never marked before!
The Man Who Trod On Sleeping Grass
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
In a field by Cahirconlish
I stood on sleeping grass,
No cry I made to Heaven
From my dumb lips would pass.
The Stream.
© Robert Crawford
God but knows what path
This small stream must take,
Through what gleams and glooms
Which the years shall make.
Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven
© Henry Francis Lyte
Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven;
To His feet Thy tribute bring!
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me His praise should sing?
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise the everlasting King!
King Cole
© George MacDonald
King Cole he reigned in Aureoland,
But the sceptre was seldom in his hand
We Shall Surely Die
© William Ernest Henley
We shall surely die:
Must we needs grow old?
Grow old and cold,
And we know not why?
The Jester In The Trench
© Leon Gellert
"That just reminds me of a yarn," he said;
And everybody turned to hear his tale.
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Fourth
© William Wordsworth
'Tis night: in silence looking down,
The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees
A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,
And Castle, like a stately crown
