All Poems
/ page 648 of 3210 /Alas! And Did My Savior Bleed?
© Isaac Watts
Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?
Confession
© George Herbert
O What a cunning guest
Is this same Grief! Within my heart I made
Closets; and in them many a chest;
And like a master in my trade,
In those chests, boxes; in each box, a till:
Yet Grief knows all, and enters when he will.
Burning Off
© Dorothea Mackellar
They're burning off at the Rampadells,
The tawny flames uprise,
With greedy licking around the trees;
The fierce breath sears our eyes.
The Parable Of The Blind
© William Carlos Williams
This horrible but superb painting
the parable of the blind
without a red
Spells And Incantations
© Wilfred Owen
A vague pearl, a wan pearl
You showed me once; I peered through far-gone winters
Until my mind was fog-bound in that gem.
Il Bacio
© Paul Verlaine
Kiss! Hollyhock in Love's luxuriant close!
Brisk music played on pearly little keys,
In tempo with the witching melodies
Love in the ardent heart repeating goes.
In A Garden
© Madison Julius Cawein
The pink rose drops its petals on
The moonlit lawn, the moonlit lawn;
In A Northern Wood
© Katharine Lee Bates
FRAGRANT are the cedar-boughs stretching green and level,
Feasting-halls where waxwings flit at their spicy revel,
Sonnet 33: I Might
© Sir Philip Sidney
I might!-unhappy word-O me, I might,
And then would not, or could not, see my bliss;
To My Young Countryman D.H.D.
© Charles Harpur
Who doubteth, when the morning star doth light
Her lamp of beauty, that the day is coming?
Victoria
© George Essex Evans
White Star of Womanhood, whose rays
Thro years of peace and years of stress
Song II
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
HO! fetch me the winecup! fill up to the brim!
For my heart has grown cold, and my vision is dim,
And I fain would bring back for a moment the glow,
The swift passion that age has long chilled with its snow;
Influence Of Time on Grief
© William Lisle Bowles
O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay
Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence,
To The River Rhone
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thou Royal River, born of sun and shower
In chambers purple with the Alpine glow,
The Faery Foster-Mother
© William Cosmo Monkhouse
BRIGHT Eyes, Light Eyes! Daughter of a Fay!
I had not been a wedded wife a twelvemonth and a day,
Daybreak
© Gwen Harwood
The snails brush silver. Critic crow
points his unpleasant beak, and lances.
Resumes his treetop, darts below
his acid-bright, corrosive glances.
Prelude
© William Watson
The mighty poets from their flowing store
Dispense like casual alms the careless ore;