All Poems
/ page 569 of 3210 /
The City's Oldest Known Survivor of the Great War by James Doyle: American Life in Poetry #9 Ted Koo
© Ted Kooser
In eighteen lines—one long sentence—James Doyle evokes two settings: an actual parade and a remembered one. By dissolving time and contrasting the scenes, the poet helps us recognize the power of memory and the subtle ways it can move us.
The City's Oldest Known Survivor of the Great War
Come Back to the Farm!
© Henry Clay Work
'Tis the voice of your sister - she calls you,
In tones both of love and alarm!
"By dead mother's prayers - by father's gray hairs -
Dear brother, come back to the farm."
To Sleep
© William Wordsworth
FOND words have oft been spoken to thee, Sleep!
And thou hast had thy store of tenderest names;
The very sweetest, Fancy culls or frames,
When thankfulness of heart is strong and deep!
Scenes From The Faust Of Goethe
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
CHORUS:
Thy countenance gives the Angels strength,
Though none can comprehend Thee:
And all Thy lofty works
Are excellent as at the first day.
The Deeds Of Anger
© Edgar Albert Guest
I used to lose my temper an' git mad an' tear around
An' raise my voice so wimmin folks would tremble at the sound;
I'd do things I was ashamed of when the fit of rage had passed,
An' wish I hadn't done 'em, an' regret 'em to the last;
But I've learned from sad experience how useless is regret,
For the mean things done in anger are the things you can't forget.
Tale XIV
© George Crabbe
dwell,
While he was acting (he would call it) well;
He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell;
There was no fraud, and he demanded cause
Why he was troubled when he kept the laws?"
"My laws!" said Conscience. "What," said he, "
Lament For Israel
© Frances Anne Kemble
Where is thy home in thy promised land?
Desolate and forsaken!
Day
© Jones Very
Day! I lament that none can hymn thy praise
In fitting strains, of all thy riches bless;
The Raven And The King's Daughter
© William Morris
Kings daughter sitting in tower so high,
Fair summer is on many a shield.
Why weepest thou as the clouds go by?
Fair sing the swans twixt firth and field.
Why weepest thou in the window-seat
Till the tears run through thy fingers sweet?
Rimas XXVII
© Gustavo Adolfo Becquer
Despierta, tiemblo al mirarte;
Dormida me atrevo a verte;
Por eso, alma de mi alma,
Yo velo mientras tu duermes.
Sonnet XLVI.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Written at Penhurst, in Autumn 1788.
YE towers sublime! deserted now and drear!
Ye woods! deep sighing to the hollow blast,
The musing wanderer loves to linger near,
Elegy VI. To Charles Diodati, When He Was Visiting In The Country (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
With no rich viands overcharg'd, I send
Health, which perchance you want, my pamper'd friend;
Firwood
© John Clare
The fir trees taper into twigs and wear
The rich blue green of summer all the year,
New College Gardens, Oxford
© Edith Nesbit
The enchantment of the dreaming limes,
The magic of the quiet hours,
Breathe unheard tales of other times
And other destinies than ours;
Faces
© Arthur Symons
The pathos of a face behind the glass,
When April brightens in the grass;
The pathos of a face that, like the day,
Fades to an evening, chill and grey,
Yet has not known the universal boon
Of Springtide at the warmth of noon.
WordsFor A Nursery
© Sylvia Plath
Rosebud, knot of worms,
Heir of the first five
Shapers, I open:
Five moony crescents
Czar Alexander The Second
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
FROM him did forty million serfs, endow'd
Each with six feet of death-due soil, receive
Love's Vision.
© Robert Crawford
I am one with thee, and thou
Art a vision of me now,
Which love, and not life, has made;
It with life, then, may not fade,
