All Poems
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Limerick:There was a Young Lady of Sweden
© Edward Lear
There was a Young Lady of Sweden,
Who went by the slow rain to Weedon;
When they cried, 'Weedon Station!'
She made no observation
But thought she should go back to Sweden.
To The Moon
© Pierre de Ronsard
Hide this one night thy crescent, kindly Moon;
So shall Endymion faithful prove, and rest
Wild Ass
© Padraic Colum
THE Wild Ass lounges, legs struck out
In vagrom unconcern:
The tombs o Achaemenian kings
Are for those hooves to spurn.
The Garment Of Good Ladies
© Robert Henryson
Would my good Lady love me best,
And work after my will,
I should ane garment goodliest
Gar mak her body till.
Sonnet XXXIX. To Night. From The Same.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
I LOVE thee, mournful, sober-suited Night!
When the faint moon, yet lingering in her wane,
And veil'd in clouds, with pale uncertain light
Hangs o'er the waters of the restless main.
A Memory
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Here, while the loom of Winter weaves
The shroud of flowers and fountains,
I think of thee and summer eves
Among the Northern mountains.
The Picture
© Ezra Pound
The eyes of this dead lady speak to me,
For here was love, was not to be drowned out.
And here desire, not to be kissed away.
The eyes of this dead lady speak to me.
The Shepherd's Week : Saturday; or, The Flights
© John Gay
Bowzybeus.
Sublimer strains, O rustic muse, prepare;
Knockin' Around
© Henry Lawson
Wiry old man at the tail of the plough,
Heard of Jack lately? and where is he now?
Pauses a moment his forehead to wipe,
Drops the rope reins while he feels for his pipe,
Scratches his grey head in sorrow or doubt:
Somewheers or others hes knocking about.
Home Truths for Varuss girl: to Varus
© Gaius Valerius Catullus
Varus drags me into his affairs
out of the Forum, where Im seen idling:
The Brus Book V
© John Barbour
The king goes to Carrick; he upbraids Cuthbert]
Thys wes in ver quhen wynter tid
Song. Love, Like Cordial Wine
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Love, like cordial wine,
Pouring his soul in mine,
Bids me to sing;
Youth's bright glory snatch,
And Time's paces match
With fearless wing.
Kerosine Bay
© Henry Lawson
Tis strange on such a peaceful day
With white clouds flying oer,
That foreign boats are in the bay
As prisoners of war.
The Harbour, where they quietly lay;
Smiles brightly as of yore.
Helping
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Agatha Fry, she made a pie
And Christopher John helped bake it
Christopher John, he mowed the lawn
And Agatha Fry helped rake it
Sonnet to Mathew Wood, Esq., Alderman and M. P.
© Charles Lamb
Hold on thy course uncheck'd, heroic Wood!
Regardless what the player's son may prate,
Aphrodite Metropolis
© Kenneth Fearing
Harry loves Myrtle-He has strong arms, from the warehouse,
And on Sunday when they take the bus to emerald meadows he doesn't say:
