All Poems
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To Captain Fryatt
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Trampled yet red is the last of the embers,
Red the last cloud of a sun that has set;
What of your sleeping though Flanders remembers,
What of your waking, if England forget?
Why Is It?
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Why is it so, Dear Prince of Peace,
That wrongs to Negroes never cease?
Are they disloyal to thy name,
And thus are punished for the same?
Boston
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
St. Botolph's Town! Hither across the plains
And fens of Lincolnshire, in garb austere,
The Unimaginative
© Madison Julius Cawein
Each form of beauty's but the new disguise
Of thoughts more beautiful than forms can be:
Sceptics, who search with unanointed eyes,
Never the Earth's wild fairy-dance shall see.
Before The Fair
© Padraic Colum
"Lost," "lost," the beeves and the bullocks,
The cattle men sell and buy,
Crowded upon the fair green,
Low to the lightless sky.
Tale I
© George Crabbe
THE DUMB ORATORS; OR THE BENEFIT OF SOCIETY.
That all men would be cowards if they dare,
Absence
© Charles Harpur
NIGHTLY I watch the moon with silvery sheen
Flaking the city house-tops, till I feel
"Spring It Is Cheery"
© Thomas Hood
Spring it is cheery,
Winter is dreary,
Green leaves hang, but the brown must fly;
When he's forsaken,
I Have But One Rose In The World
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I have but one rose in the world,
And my one rose stands a-drooping:
Oh, when my single rose is dead
There'll be but thorns for stooping.
Tyre
© James Bayard Taylor
THE wild and windy morning is lit with lurid fire;
The thundering surf of ocean beats on the rocks of Tyre, --
In The East
© Georg Trakl
Thorny wilderness surrounds the town.
From steps that bleeds the moon
Drives off dumbfounded women.
Wild wolves have burst through the gate.
At Evening
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Fly home, my thoughts, that fretting
In alien words all day,
Have longed for the sun's setting
And wished all words away.
Fly home to her that knows you,
And in her heart repose you.
My Journey (With English Translation)
© Ali Sardar Jafri
PHIR IK DIN AISAA AAYEGAA
AAnKHOn KE DIYE BUJH JAAYEInGEY
Johnnie's First Moose
© William Henry Drummond
De cloud is hide de moon, but dere's plain-
tee light above,
The Bells
© Guillaume Apollinaire
My gipsy beau my lover
Hear the bells above us
We loved passionately
Thinking none could see us
A Descriptive Ode
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Supposed to have been written under the Ruins of
Rufus's Castle, among the remains of the ancient
Church on the Isle of Portland.
CHAOTIC pile of barren stone,
The Elected Knight. From The Danish.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain,
Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide,
But never, ah never, can meet with the man,
A tilt with him dare ride.
To A Brown Boy
© Countee Cullen
That brown girl's swagger gives a twitch
To beauty like a Queen,
Lad, never damn your body's itch
When loveliness is seen.
Free Will And Fate
© Alfred Austin
`What is it rules thy singing season?
`What is it rules thy singing season?
Instinct, that diviner Reason,
To which the wish to know seemeth a sort of treason.'
