All Poems
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Christmas Tears
© Henry Van Dyke
The day returns by which we date our years:
Day of the joy of giving,that means love;
A Womans Sonnets: VII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What have I gained? A little charity?
I never more may dare to fling a stone
At any weakness, nor make boast that I
A better fence or fortitude had shown;
Oerweening Statesmen Have Full Long Relied
© William Wordsworth
O'ERWEENING Statesmen have full long relied
On fleets and armies, and external wealth:
But from 'within' proceeds a Nation's health;
Which shall not fail, though poor men cleave with pride
On a fateful day, an unlucky time
© Boris Pasternak
On a fateful day, an unlucky time,
Unannounced, it may happen thus:
Stifling, blacker still than a monastery
Utter madness descends on us.
Wrapping dumplings
© Matsuo Basho
Wrapping dumplings in
bamboo leaves, with one finger
she tidies her hair
Shepherds All And Maidens Fair
© Edith Nesbit
PIPE, shepherds, pipe, the summer's ripe;
So wreathe your crooks with flowers;
"Here, where the vine and fig bask hand in hand,"
© Alfred Austin
Here, where the vine and fig bask hand in hand,
And the hot lizard lies along the wall,
The Vision Of The Maid Of Orleans - The Third Book
© Robert Southey
The Maiden, musing on the Warrior's words,
Turn'd from the Hall of Glory. Now they reach'd
The Grief Of Love
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love, I am sick for thee, sick with an absolute grief,
Sick with the thought of thy eyes and lips and bosom.
All the beauty I saw, I see to my hurt revealed.
All that I felt I feel to--day for my pain and sorrow.
Having Seen Them Long
© Saigyo
Having seen them long,
I hold the flowers so dear
That when they scatter
I find it all the more sad
To bid them my last farewell.
Oft For Our Own
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
How many go forth in the morning
and never come home at night,
and hearts have broken
for harsh words spoken
That sorrow can never set right.
How Full of God
© Charles Harpur
To leave them dark, and such a tinge
Oer every aftersunset throw,
That it should only seem to fringe
The pall of a dead long ago.
To Ianthe
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I love thee, Baby! for thine own sweet sake;
Those azure eyes, that faintly dimpled cheek,
Thy tender frame, so eloquently weak,
Love in the sternest heart of hate might wake;
Astraea: The Balance Of Illusions
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Dear to his age were memories such as these,
Leaves of his June in life's autumnal breeze;
Such were the tales that won my boyish ear,
Told in low tones that evening loves to hear.
Harebell And Pansy
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O'er the round throat her little head
Its gay delight upbuoys:
A harebell in the breeze of June
Hath such melodious poise;
And chiming with her heart, my heart
Is only hers and joy's.
I Yearn For A Tranquil Moment
© Sugawara Takesue no Musume
I yearn for a tranquil moment
To be out upon the sea of harmony,
In that enchanted boat.
Oh, boatman, do you know my heart?
Ballad: Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree
© Charles Kingsley
'Are you ready for your steeple-chase, Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree?
Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Baree,
You're booked to ride your capping race to-day at Coulterlee,
You're booked to ride Vindictive, for all the world to see,
To keep him straight, to keep him first, and win the run for me.
Barum, Barum,' etc.
Ausonius Epig
© Richard Lovelace
Emptis quod libris tibi bibliotheca referta est,
Doctum et grammaticum te, philomuse, putas.
Quinetiam cytharas, chordas et barbita conde:
Mercator hodie, cras citharoedus, eris.
