All Poems

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3210

The Broken Chords

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

LIKE a worn wind-harp on a barren lea,
Unstirred by subtle breathings of the sea,
Though sweet south-breezes swell the floodtide's flow,
The lyric power in this worn heart of mine

No I can't touch the clouds for you I've never reached the sun for you
I've never done the things that you need done for you
I've stretched as high as I can reach I guess I'm not the one for you
Cause I can't touch the clouds or reach the sun for you
No I can't reach the clouds or touch the sun

Before Sleep Comes

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Where do you float from, visions that shine ere sleep
Subdues with leaden law
The dancing fires of the brain?--In a shadowy land,
As a king from a tower I saw.

Arterial

© Rudyard Kipling

Frost upon small rain-the ebony-lacquered avenue
Reflecting lamps as a pool shows goldfish.
The sight suddenly emptied out of the young man's eyes
Entering upon it sideways.

The Little Velvet Suit

© Edgar Albert Guest

Last night I got to thinkin' of the pleasant long ago,
When I still had on knee breeches, an' I wore a flowing bow,
An' my Sunday suit was velvet. Ma an' Pa thought it was fine,
But I know I didn't like it-either velvet or design;
It was far too girlish for me, for I wanted something rough
Like what other boys were wearing, but Ma wouldn't buy such stuff.

Mare Rubrum

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

FLASH out a stream of blood-red wine,

For I would drink to other days,

Shut Out

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

The door was shut. I looked between
Its iron bars; and saw it lie,
My garden, mine, beneath the sky,
Pied with all flowers bedewed and green:

Remonstrance

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

Bless the dear old verdant land,
Brother, wert thou born of it?
As thy shadow life doth stand,
Twining round its rosy band,

A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXIII

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Voltaire and Rousseau, these were thy twin priests,
Proud Mother Nature, on thy opening day.
The first with bitter gibes perplexed the feasts
Of thy high rival, and prepared the way;

Shearers Song

© Anonymous

Hurrah for the Lachlan, boys, and join me in a cheer;
That's the place to go to make a cheque every year.
With a toadskin in my pocket, that I borrowed from a friend,
Oh, isn't it nice and cosy to be camping in the bend!

The Queen Of Prussia's Tomb

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

In sweet pride upon that insult keen
She smiled; then drooping mute and broken-hearted,
To the cold comfort of the grave departed. ~ Milman.

Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part II.

© Henry James Pye

Yet midst the scene of dread, when certain fate
Rides on the tempest in terrific state,
Bold in the face of death the naval train
Exert their force, and brave the insulting main;
Though rising horrors on their efforts lower,
And the deaf whirlwind mock their useless power.

The Death Of Love

© Madison Julius Cawein

So Love is dead, the Love we knew of old!

And in the sorrow of our hearts' hushed halls

The Serenade

© James Whitcomb Riley

The midnight is not more bewildering

To her drowsed eyes, than to her ears, the sound

Giving And Taking

Who gives and hides the giving hand,
Nor counts on favor, fame, or praise,
Shall find his smallest gift outweighs
The burden of the sea and land.

The Monk's Walk

In this sombre garden close
What has come and passed, who knows?
What red passion, what white pain
Haunted this dim walk in vain?

Immorality

Have you heard, my friend, the slander that the Negro has to face?
Immorality, the grossest, has been charged up to his race.
Listen, listen to my story, as I now proceed to tell
Of conditions in the Southland, where the mass of Negroes dwell.