All Poems
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Fragment
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The body,
Eternal Shadow of the finite Soul,
The Soul's self-symbol, its image of itself.
Its own yet not itself-
From Our Happy Home
© Louisa May Alcott
From our happy home
Through the world we roam
One week in all the year,
Making winter spring
With the joy we bring,
For Christmas-tide is here.
R. S. S.
© William Cowper
All-worshipped Gold! thou mighty mystery
Say by what name shall I address thee rather,
Too soon so fair, fair lilies
© Augusta Davies Webster
TOO soon so fair, fair lilies;
To bloom is then to wane;
The folded bud has still
To-morrow at its will;
Blown flowers can never blow again.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Student's Tale; Emma and Eginhard
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Smaragdo, Abbot of St. Michael's, said,
With many a shrug and shaking of the head,
Surely some demon must possess the lad,
Who showed more wit than ever schoolboy had,
And learned his Trivium thus without the rod;
But Alcuin said it was the grace of God.
After they die
© André van Hasselt
Why are people called Buddhas
After they die?
Because they don't grumble any more,
Because they don't make a nuisance
Of themselves any more.
The Last Prayer
© William Wilfred Campbell
MASTER of life, the day is done;
My sun of life is sinking low;
I watch the hours slip one by one
And hark the night-wind and the snow.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf III. -- Thora Of Rimol
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me!
Danger and shame and death betide me!
For Olaf the King is hunting me down
Through field and forest, through thorp and town!"
Thus cried Jarl Hakon
To Thora, the fairest of women.
Evolution (revised)
© Sri Aurobindo
I passed into a lucent still abode
And saw as in a mirror crystalline
An ancient Force ascending serpentine
The unhasting spirals of the aeonic road.
A Lyric
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
My lady love lives far away,
And oh my heart is sad by day,
And ah my tears fall fast by night,
What may I do in such a plight.
Mary Magdalene II
© Boris Pasternak
People clean their homes before the feast.
Stepping from the bustle of the street
I go down before Thee on my knees
And anoint with myrrh Thy holy feet.
Yard Work by Don Thompson : American Life in Poetry #272 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Whether we like it or not, we live with the awareness that death is always close at hand, and in this poem by Don Thompson, a Californian, a dead blackbird can’t be pushed out of the awareness of the speaker, nor can it escape the ants, who have their own yard work to do.
Yard Work
My leaf blower lifted the blackbird-
The Story of Little Suck-a-Thumb
© Heinrich Hoffmann
Mamma comes home: there Conrad stands,
And looks quite sad, and shows his hands;
"Ah!" said Mamma, "I knew he'd come
To naughty little Suck-a-Thumb."
Ormuzd And Ahriman. Part I
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
YE interstellar spaces, serene and still and clear.
Above, below, around!
Ye gray unmeasured breadths of ether, sphere on sphere!
We listen, but no sound
Rings from your depths profound.
Uomo Del Mio Tempo
© Salvatore Quasimodo
You are still the one with the stone and the sling,
Man of my time. You were in the cockpit,
Xantippe(A Fragment)
© Amy Levy
What, have I waked again? I never thought
To see the rosy dawn, or ev'n this grey,
Limerick: There was an Old Person in Black
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Person in Black,
A Grasshopper jumped on his back;
When it chirped in his ear,
He was smitten with fear,
That helpless Old Person in Black.
The Dead Soldier
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Where the sword has opened the way the man will follow
"Look! they came, the triumphant army!
A Poet's Home
© George Wither
When you unto the highest do attain
An intermixture both of wood and plain
You shall behold, which, though aloft it lie,
Hath downs for sheep and fields for husbandry,
So much, at least, as little needeth more,
If not enough to merchandise their store.
