All Poems
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Song. -- Fierce Roars The Midnight Storm
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Fierce roars the midnight storm
O'er the wild mountain,
Dark clouds the night deform,
Swift rolls the fountain--
The Swan - Vain Pleasures
© George Moses Horton
The Swan which boasted mid the tide,
Whose nest was guarded by the wave,
Floated for pleasure till she died,
And sunk beneath the flood to lave.
Romancin'
© James Whitcomb Riley
I' b'en a-kindo musin', as the feller says, and I'm
About o' the conclusion that they ain't no better time,
When you come to cipher on it, than the times we used to know
When we swore our first "dog-gone-it" sorto solem'-like and low!
A Musing On A Victory
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Down by the Sutlej shore,
Where sound the trumpet and the wild tum-tum,
At winter's eve did come
A gaunt old northern lion, at whose roar
The myriad howlers of thy wilds are dumb,
Blood-stained Ferozepore!
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Among the rest ('twas thus his dream went on
While Adrian slept) in more than courteous mood
And smiling welcome, fairer scarce was none,
That noble knight Natalia's husband stood,
For Peace
© Harriet Monroe
Flowers grow in the grass,
Baby footfalls pass
Over the fields once red,
Over the hero's head
For Peace.
Elegy I. To Charles Deodati (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
At length, my friend, the far-sent letters come,
Charged with thy kindness, to their destin'd home,
Olney Hymn 45: The Happy Change
© William Cowper
How bless'd Thy creature is, O God,
When with a single eye,
He views the lustre of Thy Word,
The dayspring from on high!
Consolation
© William Taylor Collins
How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,
wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.
How much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard
and all the sudden hand gestures of my compatriots.
The Prisoner to a Robin Who Came to His Window
© James Montgomery
Welcome! welcome! little stranger,
Welcome to my lone retreat,
Here, secure from every danger,
Hop about, and chirp, and eat.
Robin! how I envy thee,
Happy child of liberty.
Ein Weib
© Heinrich Heine
They loved each other with love so deep,
She was a tramp and he was a thief.
When he was plying his naughty craft,
She lay on the bed and laughed.
To A Young Lady, On Being Too Fond Of Music
© Charles Lamb
Why is your mind thus all day long
Upon your music set;
Till reason's swallowed in a song,
Or idle canzonet?
Found Letter by Joshua Weiner: American Life in Poetry #123 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
There is a type of poem, the Found Poem, that records an author's discovery of the beauty that occasionally occurs in the everyday discourse of others. Such a poem might be words scrawled on a wadded scrap of paper, or buried in the classified ads, or on a billboard by the road. The poet makes it his or her poem by holding it up for us to look at. Here the Washington, D.C., poet Joshua Weiner directs us to the poetry in a letter written not by him but to him.
The Spirits for Good
© Henry Lawson
We come with peace and reason,
We come with love and light,
To banish black self-treason
And everlasting night.
Naples 1860
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I GIVE thee joy!I know to thee
The dearest spot on earth must be
Where sleeps thy loved one by the summer sea;
To W.L. Garrison
© James Russell Lowell
In a small chamber, friendless and unseen,
Toiled o'er his types one poor, unlearned young man;
The place was dark, unfurnitured, and mean;
Yet there the freedom of a race began.
Sir Walter Scott
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
DEAD!it was like a thunderbolt
To hear that he was dead;
Though for long weeks the words of fear
Came from his dying bed;
Yet hope denied, and would deny
We did not think that he could die.
