All Poems
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Frost
© Madison Julius Cawein
White artist he, who, breezeless nights,
From tingling stars jocosely whirls,
A harlequin in spangled tights,
His wand a pot of pounded pearls.
The Important Thing
© Edgar Albert Guest
He was playing in the garden when we called him in for tea,
But he didn't seem to hear us, so I went out there to see
What the little rogue was up to, and I stooped and asked him why,
When he heard his mother calling, he had made her no reply.
"I am playing war," he told me, "and I'm up against defeat,
And until I stop the Germans I can't take the time to eat."
The Tuft Of Kelp
© Herman Melville
All dripping in tangles green,
Cast up by a lonely sea
If purer for that, O Weed,
Bitterer, too, are ye?
Olney Hymn 53: My Soul Thirsteth For God
© William Cowper
I thirst, but not as once I did,
The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.
Love And Liberty
© Horace Smith
The linnet had flown from its cage away,
And flitted and sang in the light of day--
Had flown from the lady who loved it well,
In Liberty's freer air to dwell.
Alas! poor bird, it was soon to prove,
Sweeter than Liberty is Love.
The Three Gentle Shepherds
© Alexander Pope
Of gentle Philips will I ever sing,
With gentle Philips shall the valleys ring.
Visit Of Hope To Sydney Cove, Near Botany Bay
© Erasmus Darwin
Where Sydney Cove her lucid bosom swells,
And with wide arms the indignant storm repels;
The Violet
© Sir Walter Scott
The violet in her greenwood bower,
Where birchen boughs with hazel mingle,
May boast itself the fairest flower
In glen, or copse, or forest dingle.
The Improvisatore, Or, 'John Anderson, My Jo, John'
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improvisatore ; here he comes. Kate has a favour
to ask of you, Sir ; it is that you will repeat the ballad [Believe me if
all those endearing young charms.-EHC's ? note] that Mr. ____ sang so
sweetly.
Dawn.
© Arthur Henry Adams
Far in the Eastern passage-way a sudden light;
The stone that blocked the sepulchre is backward rolled;
And down into the foetid, stifling vault of Night
The naked corpse of Dawn is lowered, grey and cold.
I Told You So
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I know a little fellow, his name I think is Jo,
But he is seldom called by that-he has a queer nick-name,
Wherever he goes the children cry, "There comes 'I-told-you-so.'"
For that is what he always says in playing any game,
"I told you so! I told you so!
You see I was right when I told you so."
A Streams Singing
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O HOW beautiful is Morning!
How the sunbeams strike the daisies,
And the kingcups fill the meadow
Like a golden-shielded army
By The Grave Of Henry Timrod
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN last we parted--thy frail hand in mine--
Above us smiled September's passionless sky,
And touched by fragrant airs, the hillside pine
Thrilled in the mellow sunshine tenderly;
The Doe: A Fragment (From Wandering Willie)
© George Meredith
And-'Yonder look! yoho! yoho!
Nancy is off!' the farmer cried,
A Mountain Gateway
© Bliss William Carman
I know a vale where I would go one day,
When June comes back and all the world once more
Is glad with summer. Deep in shade it lies
A mighty cleft between the bosoming hills,
A cool dim gateway to the mountains' heart.
The Latter Rain
© Jones Very
THE latter rain, it falls in anxious haste
Upon the sun-dried fields and branches bare,
