All Poems
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The Traveller; or, A Prospect of Society
© Oliver Goldsmith
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow
Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,
Slain
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Hollow a grave where the willows wave,
And lay him under the grasses,
Where the pitying breeze bloweth up from the seas,
And murmurs a chant as it passes.
Nowhere to Lay His Head
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
They shall see Him in his beauty,
And walk with Him in white.
Daft Jean
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
'Black, black,' sang she,
'Black, black my weeds shall be,
My love has widowed me!
Black, black!' sang she.
Blind Old Milton
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
Place me once more, my daughter, where the sun
May shine upon my old and time-worn head,
How Shall I Woo Thee
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
How shall I woo thee to win thee, mine own?
Say in what tongue shall I tell of my love.
I who was fearless so timid have grown,
All that was eagle has turned into dove.
The path from the meadow that leads to the bars
Is more to me now than the path of the stars.
The River Wainsbeck
© William Lisle Bowles
While slowly wanders thy sequestered stream,
WAINSBECK, the mossy-scattered rocks among,
Limerick:There was a Young Lady of Russia
© Edward Lear
There was a Young Lady of Russia,
Who screamed so that no one could hush her;
Her screams were extreme,--
No one heard such a scream
As was screamed by that Lady from Russia.
Mountain Sonnets
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
[Written on one of the Blue Ridge range of Mountains.]
HERE let me pause by the lone eagle's nest,
And breathe the golden sunlight and sweet air,
Which gird and gladden all this region fair
At The Feast
© Edith Nesbit
EVOLVING, changing, onwards still we press--
We must advance, invent, construct, possess;
No matter what a price we have to pay,
We must obtain perfection, and no less--
Mencius
© Sarah Knowles Bolton
Three centuries before the Christian age
China's great teacher, Mencius, was born;
"What ails you, Ocean, that nor near nor far"
© Alfred Austin
The Mountains
What ails you, Ocean, that nor near nor far,
Find you a bourne to ease your burdened breast,
But throughout time inexorable are
Never at rest?
The Creaking Door
© Madison Julius Cawein
COME in, old Ghost of all that used to be!
You find me old,
And love grown cold,
And fortune fled to younger company:
The Stockyard Liar
© William Henry Ogilvie
If ever you're handling a rough one
There's bound to be perched on the rails
Of the Stockyard some grizzled old tough one
Whose flow of advice never fails;
Love
© Vyacheslav Ivanovich Ivanov
We are two trunks ignited by lightning
Two flames in the midnight forest;
We are two meteors flying in the night,
The double-stinging arrow of a single fate!
Catawba Wine. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
This song of mine
Is a Song of the Vine,
To be sung by the glowing embers
Of wayside inns,
When the rain begins
To darken the drear Novembers.
