Poems begining by A
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A River
© A. K. Ramanujan
In Madurai,
city of temples and poets,
who sang of cities and temples,
every summer
At Parting
© Wang Wei
I dismount from my horse and I offer you wine,
And I ask you where you are going and why.
And you answer: "I am discontent
And would rest at the foot of the southern mountain.
So give me leave and ask me no questions.
White clouds pass there without end."
A Farm-house On The Wei River
© Wang Wei
In the slant of the sun on the country-side,
Cattle and sheep trail home along the lane;
Among Those Killed In The Dawn Raid Was A Man Aged A Hundred
© Dylan Thomas
When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, Of A Child In London
© Dylan Thomas
Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
And the still hour
Is come of the sea tumbling in harness
Alfred Lord Tennyson - The Coming Of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
Leodogran, the King of Cameliard,
Had one fair daughter, and none other child;
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,
Guinevere, and in her his one delight.
A Knock On The Door
© James Tate
They ask me if I've ever thought about the end of
the world, and I say, "Come in, come in, let me
A Description of the Morning
© Jonathan Swift
Now hardly here and there a hackney-coach
Appearing, show'd the ruddy morn's approach.
Always on the Train
© Ruth Stone
Writing poems about writing poems
is like rolling bales of hay in Texas.
A High-Toned Old Christian Woman
© Wallace Stevens
Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.
Take the moral law and make a nave of it
Amoretti XXII: This Holy Season
© Edmund Spenser
This holy season, fit to fast and pray,
Men to devotion ought to be inclin'd:
Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name
© Edmund Spenser
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair
© Edmund Spenser
Men call you fair, and you do credit it,
For that your self ye daily such do see:
Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters
© Edmund Spenser
Most happy letters, fram'd by skilful trade,
With which that happy name was first design'd:
Amoretti LXVIII: Most Glorious Lord of Life
© Edmund Spenser
Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day,
Didst make thy triumph over death and sin:
Amoretti LXVII: Like as a Huntsman
© Edmund Spenser
Like as a huntsman after weary chase,
Seeing the game from him escap'd away,
A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty
© Edmund Spenser
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
Astrophel and Stella: XXXIX
© Sir Philip Sidney
Come Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace,
The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe,
Astrophel and Stella: XXXIII
© Sir Philip Sidney
I might!--unhappy word--O me, I might,
And then would not, or could not, see my bliss;
Astrophel and Stella: XX
© Sir Philip Sidney
Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound, fly!
See there that boy, that murd'ring boy, I say,
