All Poems
/ page 515 of 3210 /Midsummer Vigil
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Night smiles on me with her stars,
Mystic, pure, enchanted, lone.
Light, that only heaven discloses,
Is in heaven that no cloud mars;
Here, through murmuring darkness blown,
Comes the scent of unseen roses.
A Perfect Sonnet
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh, for a perfect sonnet of all time!
Wild music, heralding immortal hopes,
Strikes the bold prelude. To it from each clime,
Like tropic birds on some green island slopes,
A Pagan Prayer
© Virna Sheard
Lord of all Life! When my hours are done,
Take me and make me anew--
And give me back to the earth and the sun,
And the sky's unlimited blue.
Nature The Consoler
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
GLADLY I hail these solitudes, and breathe
The inspiring breath of the fresh woodland air,
Most gladly to the past alone bequeath
Doubt, grief, and care;
Elegy XIX. - Written in Spring, 1743
© William Shenstone
Again the labouring hind inverts the soil;
Again the merchant ploughs the tumid wave;
Another spring renews the soldier's toil,
And finds me vacant in the rural cave.
Thoughts on Imputed Righteousness - Occasioned by Reading Theron and Aspasio : Part II.
© John Byrom
To shun much novel sentiment and nice,
I take the thing from its apparent rise;
The Tear-drop
© Robert Burns
Wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e;
Lang lang Joy's been a stranger to me:
Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear,
And the sweet voice o' Pity ne'er sounds in my ear.
A Sentiment. II.
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
A TRIPLE health to Friendship, Science, Art,
From heads and hands that own a common heart!
Each in its turn the othersâ willing slave,
Each in its season strong to heal and save.
Pen-Y-GWRYDD: To Tom Hughes, Esq.,
© Charles Kingsley
There is no inn in Snowdon which is not awful dear,
Excepting Pen-y-gwrydd (you can't pronounce it, dear),
The Shakespeare Memorial
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Lord Lilac thought it rather rotten
That Shakespeare should be quite forgotten,
To A Friend
© Joseph Rodman Drake
YES, faint was my applause and cold my praise,
Though soul was glowing in each polished line;
A Love By The Sea
© William Ernest Henley
Out of the starless night that covers me,
(O tribulation of the wind that rolls!)
Black as the cloud of some tremendous spell,
The susurration of the sighing sea
Sounds like the sobbing whisper of two souls
That tremble in a passion of farewell.
Evening: Barents Sea
© Benjamin Jonson
Great lucid streamers bar the sky ahead
(bifurcated banners at a tourney)
light alchemizes the brass on the bridge
into sallow gold
now the short northern
autumn day closes quickly
Maternal Grief
© William Wordsworth
DEPARTED Child! I could forget thee once
Though at my bosom nursed; this woeful gain
Thy dissolution brings, that in my soul
Is present and perpetually abides
The Necessity Of SelfAbasement
© William Cowper
Source of love, my brighter sun,
Thou alone my comfort art;
See, my race is almost run;
Hast thou left this trembling heart?
Sleep of the Body the Soul's Awakening
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Every night Thou freest our spirits from the body
And its snare, making them pure as rased tablets.
Like Coins, November by Elizabeth Klise von Zerneck : American Life in Poetry #241 Ted Kooser, U.S.
© Ted Kooser
I love poems in which the central metaphors are fresh and original, and here’s a marvelous, coiny description of autumn by Elizabeth Klise von Zerneck, who lives in Illinois.
Like Coins, November
We drove past late fall fields as flat and cold
Lara. A Tale
© George Gordon Byron
Proud Otho on the instant, reddening, threw
His glove on earth, and forth his sabre flew.
"The last alternative befits me best,
And thus I answer for mine absent guest."