All Poems

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Enoch

© Jones Very

I looked to find a man who walked with God,

Like the translated patriarch of old;-

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One Against the World

© William Schwenck Gilbert

When charms enthral
There's some excuse
For measures strong;
And after all
I'm but a goose,
And may be wrong!

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In Harbor

© Paul Hamilton Hayne


I know it is over, over,
I know it is over at last!

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Midnight

© Harriet Beecher Stowe

All dark! - no light, no ray!
Sun, moon, and stars, all gone!
Dimness of anguish! - utter void! -
Crushed, and alone!

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Philomel

© Richard Barnfield

As it fell upon a day

In the merry month of May,

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The Bells Of Ostend

© William Lisle Bowles

No, I never, till life and its shadows shall end,

Can forget the sweet sound of the bells of Ostend!

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Tus Hombros Son Como Un Ara

© Ramon Lopez Velarde

¿Que elocuencia, desvalida
y casta, hay en tu persona
que en un perenne desastre
a las lágrimas convida?

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To A Young Lady Who Had Been Reproached For Taking Long Walks In The Country

© William Wordsworth

DEAR Child of Nature, let them rail!
--There is a nest in a green dale,
A harbour and a hold;
Where thou, a Wife and Friend, shalt see
Thy own heart-stirring days, and be
A light to young and old.

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The Speech

© Benjamin Jonson

The long laments I spent for ruin'd Troy,
Are dried; and now mine eyes run teares of joy.
No more shall men suppose Electra dead,
Though from the consort of her sisters fled

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A Granville, en 1836

© Victor Marie Hugo

Voici juin. Le moineau raille
Dans les champs les amoureux ;
Le rossignol de muraille
Chante dans son nid pierreux.

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Sonnet XIV

© Caroline Norton

OH! crystal eyes, in which my image lay
While I was near, as in a fountain's wave;
Let it not in like manner pass away
When I am gone; for I am Love's true slave,

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Oh you Knid, you are vile and vermicious....

© Roald Dahl

Oh you Knid, you are vile and vermicious!
You are slimy and soggy and squishous!
But what do we care
'Cause you can't get in here,
So hop it and don't get ambitious!

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Genoa

© Henry Lawson

A long farewell to Genoa

  That rises to the skies,

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Rondel. (From Froissart)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Love, love, what wilt thou with this heart of mine?
  Naught see I fixed or sure in thee!
I do not know thee,--nor what deeds are thine:
Love, love, what wilt thou with this heart of mine?
  Naught see I fixed or sure in thee!

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Second Sunday After Epiphany

© John Keble

The heart of childhood is all mirth:
  We frolic to and fro
As free and blithe, as if on earth
  Were no such thing as woe.

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On Receiving A Laurel Crown From Leigh Hunt

© John Keats

MINUTES are flying swiftly, and as yet

Nothing unearthly has enticed my brain

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With A Copy Of Aucassin And Nicolete

© James Russell Lowell

Leaves fit to have been poor Juliet's cradle-rhyme,

With gladness of a heart long quenched in mould

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Autumn

© Christina Georgina Rossetti


Mine avenue is all a growth of oaks,
Some rent by thunder strokes,
Some rustling leaves and acorns in the breeze;
Fair fall my fertile trees,
That rear their goodly heads, and live at ease.

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A Glance Behind The Curtain

© James Russell Lowell

We see but half the causes of our deeds,

Seeking them wholly in the outer life,

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The Sea's Withholding

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

THE ladye's bower faced the sea,
Its casements framed a sea-born day.
She saw the fishers sail away,
  And, far and high,
  The gulls sweep by
Within the hollow of the sky!