All Poems
/ page 494 of 3210 /The Return To Nature.
© Alice Meynell
(I) PROMETHEUS 1-
IT was the south : mid-everything,
-
Mid-land, mid-summer, noon ;
Zitten Out The Wold Year
© William Barnes
Why, raïn or sheen, or blow or snow,
I zaid, if I could stand so's,
Marriage Songs
© George MacDonald
"They have no more wine!" she said.
But they had enough of bread;
And the vessels by the door
Held for thirst a plenteous store:
Yes, enough; but Love divine
Turned the water into wine!
Hermann And Dorothea - II. Terpsichore
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Then the son thoughtfully answer'd:--"I know not why, but the fact is
My annoyance has graven itself in my mind, and hereafter
I could not bear at the piano to see her, or list to her singing."
To Woman
© George Gordon Byron
Woman! experience might have told me,
That all must love thee who behold thee:
Surely experience might have taught
Thy firmest promises are nought:
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 3
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Heavn had overturnd the Trojan state
And Priams throne, by too severe a fate;
Palinode - Autumn
© James Russell Lowell
Still thirteen years: 'tis autumn now
On field and hill, in heart and brain;
The naked trees at evening sough;
The leaf to the forsaken bough
Sighs not,--'_Auf wiedersehen!_'
Sonnet LXXIX. To The Goddess Of Botany
© Charlotte Turner Smith
OF Folly weary, shrinking from the view
Of Violence and Fraud, allow'd to take
All peace from humble life; I would forsake
Their haunts for ever, and, sweet Nymph! with you
Epitaph on the Favourite Dog of a Politician
© Hilaire Belloc
Here lies a Dog.- may every Dog that dies
Lie in security - as this Dog lies.
Study Of Two Pears
© Wallace Stevens
I
Opusculum paedagogum.
The pears are not viols,
Nudes or bottles.
They resemble nothing else.
For An Autograph
© James Russell Lowell
THOUGH old the thought and oft exprest,
'Tis his at last who says it best,
I'll try my fortune with the rest.
Life is a leaf of paper white
Whereon each one of us may write
His word or two, and then comes night.
The Brothers
© William Wordsworth
"THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live
A profitable life: some glance along,
Speranza
© Jean Ingelow
England puts on her purple, and pale, pale
With too much light, the primrose doth but wait
To meet the hyacinth; then bower and dale
Shall lose her and each fairy woodland mate.
April forgets them, for their utmost sum
Of gift was silent, and the birds are come.
You Never Can Tell
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
You never can tell when you send a word,
Like an arrow shot from a bow
By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind,
Just where it may chance to go!
A Song For Old Age
© Madison Julius Cawein
Now nights grow cold and colder,
And North the wild vane swings,
And round each tree and boulder
The driving snow-storm sings--
Come, make my old heart older,
O memory of lost things!
A Little The Best Of It
© Edgar Albert Guest
A LITTLE the best of it,
Allus he prayed for,
All th' time lookin'
Per more than he paid for,
Had an idee, that's
What bargains are made for.
A Wind Rose In The Night
© Aline Murray Kilmer
A wind rose in the night,
(She had always feared it so!)
Sorrow plucked at my heart
And I could not help but go.
In the wave-strike over unquiet stones
© Pablo Neruda
In the wave-strike over unquiet stones
the brightness bursts and bears the rose
and the ring of water contracts to a cluster
to one drop of azure brine that falls.