All Poems

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3210

The Cardinal And His Lady

© Karle Wilson Baker

The redbird is the core of fire at the heart of by still living;

And his little lady is the soft ashes covering the half-seen embers."

Thy Beauty Fades

© Jones Very

Thy beauty fades and with it too my love,

For 'twas the self-same stalk that bore its flower;

Daniel Henry Deniehy

© Henry Kendall

TAKE the harp, but very softly for our brother touch the strings:

Wind and wood shall help to wail him, waves and mournful mountain-springs.

A Song Of England

© Alfred Noyes

There is a song of England that none shall ever sing;

So sweet it is and fleet it is

Nami Danam...

© Amir Khusro

Nami danam chi manzil bood shab jaay ki man boodam;

Baharsu raqs-e bismil bood shab jaay ki man boodam.

On a Fair Morning as I Came by the Way

© Thomas Morley

On a fair morning, as I came by the way,
Met I with a merry maid in the merry month of May,
When a sweet love sings his lovely lay,
And every bird upon the bush bechirps it up so gay.

The Wounded

© John Le Gay Brereton

Stupidity and Selfishness and Fear,
Who hold enslaved the intellect of Man,
Have found their victims here.

Sweet Meat Has Sour Sauce; Or, The Slave-Trader In The Dumps

© William Cowper

Tis a curious assortment of dainty regales,
To tickle the Negroes with when the ship sails,
Fine chains for the neck, and a cat with nine tails,
Which nobody, &c.

The Landmarks

© John Greenleaf Whittier

I.
THROUGH the streets of Marblehead
Fast the red-winged terror sped;

The Prophets

© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev

There are the modern prophets here,
Though altars totally are felt,
Their eyes are very deep and clear
In them, the flame of future set.

The Troop Ship

© Isaac Rosenberg

Grotesque and queerly huddled

Contortionists to twist

Yarrow Visited

© William Wordsworth

And is this -Yarrow? -This the stream

Of which my fancy cherished

Stopped Dead

© Sylvia Plath

A squeal of brakes.
Or is it a birth cry?
And here we are, hung out over the dead drop
Uncle, pants factory Fatso, millionaire.
And you out cold beside me in your chair.

To a Lady Before Marriage

Oh! form'd by Nature, and refin'd by Art,

With charms to win, and sense to fix the heart!

Petite Ste. Rosalie

FATHER Couture loves a fricassee,
Served with a sip of home-made wine,
He is the Curé, so jolly and free,

In War-Time: An Aspiration Of The Spirit

Lord Jesus, as a little child,
Upon some high ascension day
When a great people goes to pay
Allegiance, and the tumult wild

Rain by Peter Everwine : American Life in Poetry #278 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

Peter Everwine is a California poet whose work I have admired for almost as long as I have been writing. Here he beautifully captures a quiet moment of reflection. Rain

Toward evening, as the light failed