All Poems
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Song
© Charles Harpur
THE world's heart is kindless and grey and unholy,
As the head of the wandering Jew,
From A Poem
© Boris Pasternak
I also loved, and the restless breaths
Of sleeplessness, fluttering through darkness,
Eidolons
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Those forms we fancy shadows, those strange lights
That flash on lone morasses, the quick wind
To Friends At Parting
© Frances Anne Kemble
When the glad sun looks smiling from the sky,
Upon each shadowy glen, and sunny height,
My Father
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
MY father! in the vague, mysterious past,
My boyish thoughts have wandered o'er and o'er,
To thy lone grave upon a distant shore,
The wanderer of the waters, still at last.
The End of the Book
© Charles Harpur
My work is finished that has been to me
My only solace for this many a day.
Evening By The Seaside
© Frances Anne Kemble
The monsters of the deep do roar,
And their huge manes upon the shore
Dora
© Jean Ingelow
There is but heaven, for childhood never
Can yield the all it meant, for ever.
Or is there earth, must wane to less
What dawned so close by perfectness.
A Marriage-Table
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
THERE was a marriage-table where One sate,
Haply, unnoticed, till they craved His aid:
Thenceforward does it seem that He has made
All virtuous marriage-tables consecrate:
Voyages V
© Hart Crane
Meticulous, past midnight in clear rime,
Infrangible and lonely, smooth as though cast
Together in one merciless white blade-
The bay estuaries fleck the hard sky limits.
Return Of The Heroes
© Siegfried Sassoon
"Oh! there's Sir Henry Dudster! Such a splendid leader!
How pleased he looks! What rows of ribbons on his tunic!
Such dignity…. Saluting…. (Wave your flag… now, Freda!)…
Yes, dear, I saw a Prussian General once,-at Munich.
The Coming Of Love
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
HOW shall I know? Shall I hear Love pass
In the wind that sighs through the poplar tree?
Shall I follow his passing over the grass
By the prisoned scents which his footsteps free?
Crystal Gazer
© Sylvia Plath
Gerd sits spindle-shaped in her dark tent,
Lean face gone tawn with seasons ,
Skin worn down to the knucklebones
At her tough trade; without time's taint
The burnished ball hangs fire in her hands, a lens
Fusing time's three horizons.
Elmwood
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
The after-glow has faded from the elms,
And in the denser darkness of the boughs
From time to time the firefly's tiny lamp
Sparkles. How often in still summer dusks
He paused to note that transient phantom spark
Flash on the air--a light that outlasts him!
From The Italian
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
EYES with the same blue witchery as those
Of Psyche, which caught Love in his own wiles;
Lips of the breath and hue of the red rose,
That move but with kind words, and sweetest smiles;
Voice Of The Voiceless
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I am the Voice of the Voiceless
Through me the dumb shall speak
We Are Coming, Sister Mary
© Henry Clay Work
We are coming sister Mary,
We are coming bye and bye,
Be ready sister Mary,
For the time is drawing nigh.
