All Poems

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A Praise Of His Love

© Henry Howard

  Give place, ye lovers, here before
  That spent your boasts and brags in vain;
  My lady's beauty passeth more
  The best of yours, I dare well sayn,
  Than doth the sun the candle-light,
  Or brightest day the darkest night.

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A Voyager's Dream Of Land

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans


The hollow dash of waves!–the ceaseless roar!
Silence, ye billows! vex my soul no more.

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The Banshee

© John Todhunter

She keens, and the strings of her wild harp shiver
On the gusts of night:
O'er the four waters she keens-over Moyle she keens,
O'er the Sea of Milith, and the Strait of Strongbow,
And the Ocean of Columbus.

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The Soote Season

© Henry Howard

The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings,

  With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale;

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Reflection on Size

© Piet Hein

Small people often overrate
the charm of being tall;
which is, that you appreciate
the charm of being small.

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"Booh!"

© Eugene Field

On afternoons, when baby boy has had a splendid nap,
And sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse's lap,
In some such wise my handkerchief I hold before my face,
And cautiously and quietly I move about the place;
Then, with a cry, I suddenly expose my face to view,
And you should hear him laugh and crow when I say "Booh"!

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The Cry Of The People

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Fire! Fire! Fire! the cry rang out on the night air,
The roving winds caught it up, and the very heavens resounded.
Louder and louder still, by voices grown hoarse with terror,
The cry went up and out and a nation stood still to listen.

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Recollections Of A Dreamland

© James Clerk Maxwell

Rouse ye! torpid daylight-dreamers, cast your carking cares away!
As calm air to troubled water, so my night is to your day;
All the dreary day you labour, groping after common sense,
And your eyes ye will not open on the night's magnificence.
Ye would scow were I to tell you how a guiding radiance gleams
On the outer world of action from my inner world of dreams.

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Adventure

© Adelaide Crapsey

Sun and wind and beat of sea,
Great lands stretching endlessly…
Where be bonds to bind the free?
All the world was made for me!

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The Pleasures of Memory - Part II.

© Samuel Rogers

Sweet Memory, wafted by thy gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail,
To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours.
Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers.

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Ode on the Poetical Character

© William Taylor Collins

As once, if not with light regard,

 I read aright that gifted bard,

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Sonnet 104: Envious wits

© Sir Philip Sidney

Envious wits, what hath been mine offense,
That with such poisonous care my looks you mark,
That to each word, nay sigh of mine you hark,
As grudging me my sorrow's eloquence?

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The Young Dead Soldiers Do Not Speak

© Archibald MacLeish

The young dead soldiers do not speak.

Nevertheless, they are heard in the still houses:

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Tannhauser

© Emma Lazarus

Far into Wartburg, through all Italy,
In every town the Pope sent messengers,
Riding in furious haste; among them, one
Who bore a branch of dry wood burst in bloom;
The pastoral rod had borne green shoots of spring,
And leaf and blossom. God is merciful.

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The Love-Sick Boy

© William Schwenck Gilbert

When first my old, old love I knew,

My bosom welled with joy;

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Why The Spring Is Late

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

To Miss Eva Russell.

The spring time is deaf to our pleading,

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The Solitary

© Sara Teasdale

My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,
  I have less need now than when I was young
To share myself with every comer
  Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.

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I Wonder Where My Papa Is?

© Julia A Moore

I wonder where my papa is,

 Oh, where could he have gone,

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Song of the Glee-Maiden

© Sir Walter Scott

Yes, thou mayst sigh,
And look once more at all around,
At stream and bank, and sky and ground.
Thy life its final course has found,
And thou must die.

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From The Italian Of Michael Angelo

© William Wordsworth

YES! hope may with my strong desire keep pace,
And I be undeluded, unbetrayed;
For if of our affections none finds grace
In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God made