All Poems
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Delphi
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Beneath the vintage moon's uncertain light,
And some faint stars that pierced the film of cloud,
Stood those Parnassian peaks before my sight,
Whose fame throughout the ancient world was loud.
The Robin
© John Greenleaf Whittier
MY old Welsh neighbor over the way
Crept slowly out in the sun of spring,
Pushed from her ears the locks of gray,
And listened to hear the robin sing.
Mia Carlotta
© Thomas Augustine Daly
GIUSEPPE, da barber, ees greata for "mash,"
He gotta da bigga, da blacka mustache,
At Home
© Valery Yaklovich Bryusov
It's all so familiar and clear,
My eye's accustomed to every turn;
I'm not mistaken- I'm at home;
The wallpaper flowers, the chains of books…
The Brus Book XVIII
© John Barbour
[Edward Bruce marches toward Dundalk; he debates whether to fight]
Bot he that rest anoyit ay
The Fugitives
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The waters are flashing,
The white hail is dashing,
The lightnings are glancing,
The hoar-spray is dancing—
Away!
The Bees and Flies
© Rudyard Kipling
The egregious rustic put to death
A bull by stopping of its breath,
Disposed the carcass in a shed
With fragrant herbs and branches spread,
And, having well performed the charm,
Sat down to wait the promised swarm.
The Place Where The Rainbow Ends
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
THERE'S a fabulous story
Full of splendor and glory,
Otters
© Padraic Colum
I hold him up
The glittering salmon that smells of the sea:
I hold him up and whistle!
A Visit from Abroad
© James Brunton Stephens
A speck went blowing up against the sky
As little as a leaf: then it drew near
And broadened. -- ' It's a bird,' said I,
And fetched my bow and arrows. It was queer!
The Voice Of The Banjo
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
In a small and lonely cabin out of noisy traffic's way,
Sat an old man, bent and feeble, dusk of face, and hair of gray,
And beside him on the table, battered, old, and worn as he,
Lay a banjo, droning forth this reminiscent melody:
Miners
© Wilfred Owen
There was a whispering in my hearth,
A sigh of the coal.
Grown wistful of a former earth
It might recall.
The Curse of Mother Flood
© Henry Kendall
Wizened the wood is, and wan is the way through it;
White as a corpse is the face of the fen;
The Poisoned Arrow
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
All wounded sore he lay upon my path,
His piteous moans his woeful need confessed;
Far and Near
© George MacDonald
Blue sky above, blue sea below,
Far off, the old Nile's mouth,
'Twas a blue world, wherein did blow
A soft wind from the south.
On A Bird
© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
A sweet-voiced bird's been caught.
They squeeze it in a vice-like grip.
The poor thing squeaks and warbles not
But they insist: "O, birdie, sing!"
