All Poems
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The Captive
© Forough Farrokhzad
want you, yet I know that never
can I embrace you to my heart's content.
you are that clear and bright sky.
I, in this corner of the cage, am a captive bird.
To
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Mine is a wayward lay;
And, if its echoing rhymes I try to string,
Proveth a truant thing,
Whenso some names I love, send it away!
Helian
© Georg Trakl
In the spirits solitary hours
It is lovely to walk in the sun
Along the yellow walls of summer.
Quietly whisper the steps in the grass; yet always sleeps
The son of Pan in the grey marble.
The Ghost's Return
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Skirlin' an' birlin', tunin' an' croonin',
Reelin' an' skreelin', they piped doun the glen,
Lang Hugh an' black Sandie, Ian Dhu an' wee Dandie,
Wha wad na gang wi' the braw Hielan'men?
Pairing Time Anticipated. A Fable
© William Cowper
Moral
Misses! the tale that I relate
This lesson seems to carry
Choose not alone a proper mate,
But proper time to marry.
Fancies At Leisure - II
© William Michael Rossetti
I. In Spring
The sky is blue here, scarcely with a stain
Sonnet XX: What It Is to Breathe
© Samuel Daniel
What it is to breathe and live without life;
How to be pale with anguish, red with fear;
When The Drums Shall Cease To Beat
© Edgar Albert Guest
When will the laughter ring again in the way that it used to do?
Not till the soldiers come home again, not till the war is through.
When will the holly gleam again and the Christmas candles burn?
Not till the swords are sheathed once more and the brave of our land return.
Talent And Genius
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
I.
ON the high road travelling steady,
Sure, alert, and ever ready,
Prompt to seize all fit occasion,
Strike Stone On Steel
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Strike stone on steel,
Fire replies.
Strike men that feel,
The answer is in their eyes.
The Son's Sorrow
© William Morris
The King has asked of his son so good,
Why art thou hushed and heavy of mood?
O fair it is to ride abroad.
Thou playest not, and thou laughest not;
All thy good game is clean forgot.
Epitaph - On Himself
© Matthew Prior
Nobles and Heralds, by your leave!
Here lie the bones of Matthew Prior;
A son of Adam and Eve:
Let Bourbon or Nassau go higher.
A Guinevere
© Madison Julius Cawein
Sullen gold down all the sky,
In the roses sultry musk;
Nightingales hid in the dusk
Yonder sob and sigh.
At Love's Beginning.
© Robert Crawford
I might not have it then I might not, yet
She was so near to me, could I forget
She might be nearer? There was in her eyes
What shall I say? a hint of the sunrise
A Violinist
© Francis William Bourdillon
THE LARK above our heads doth know
A heaven we see not here below;
That For Money!
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Sallust, I know you of old,
How you hate the sight of gold--
"Idle ingots that encumber
Mother Earth"--I've got your number.
The Pledge
© Adelaide Crapsey
White doves of Cytherea, by your quest
Across the blue Heaven's bluest highest air,
Demeter and Persephone
© Alfred Tennyson
Faint as a climate-changing bird that flies
All night across the darkness, and at dawn
The Idlers Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. August
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
ON THE THAMES
The river Thames has many a dear delight
In summer days for souls which know not guile,
Or souls too careless of the vain world's spite
