Poems begining by A
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A Reed Shaken In The Wind
© Madison Julius Cawein
To say to hope,--Take all from me,
And grant me naught:
The rose, the song, the melody,
The word, the thought:
Then all my life bid me be slave,--
Is all I crave.
A Childs Treasures
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Thou art home at last, my darling one,
Flushed and tired with thy play,
A Villonaud: Ballad Of The Gibbet
© Ezra Pound
Drink ye a skoal for the gallows tree!
Francois and Margot and thee and me,
Drink we the comrades merrily
That said us, 'Till then' for the gallows tree!
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
'Tis time I stepped from Horeb to the plain.
Mountains, farewell. I need a heavier air.
Youth's memories are not good for souls in pain,
And each new age has its own meed of care.
A Bridal Song
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The golden gates of Sleep unbar
Where Strength and Beauty, met together,
Kindle their image like a star
A Southern Lullaby
© Virna Sheard
Little honey baby, shet yo' eyes up tight;--
(Shadow-man is comin' from de moon!)--
You's as sweet as roses if dey is so pink an white;
(Shadow-man '11 get here mighty soon.)
Aurora Leigh: Book Fifth
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
"A flower, a flower," exclaimed
My German student,-his own eyes full-blown
Bent on her. He was twenty, certainly.
A Seaman's Confession Of Faith
© Harry Kemp
As long as I go forth on ships that sail
The mighty seas, my faith, O Lord, won't fail;
A Captain Of Song
© Francis Thompson
(On a portrait of Coventry Patmore by J. S. Sargent, R.A.)
Look on him. This is he whose works ye know;
A Mood
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
A blight, a gloom, I know not what, has crept upon my gladness-
Some vague, remote ancestral touch of sorrow, or of madness;
A fear that is not fear, a pain that has not pain's insistence;
A sense of longing, or of loss, in some foregone exsistence;
A subtle hurt that never pen has writ nor tongue has spoken-
Such hurt perchance as Nature feels wen a blossomed bough is broken.
A Song To Eleonora Duse In "Francesca da Rimini "
© Sara Teasdale
Oh would I were the roses, that lie against her hands,
The heavy burning roses she touches as she stands!
Dear hands that hold the roses, where mine would love to be,
Oh leave, oh leave the roses, and hold the hands of me!
She draws the heart from out them, she draws away their breath,
Oh would that I might perish and find so sweet a death!
An Den Wein
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Wein, wenn ich dich itzo trinke,
Wenn ich dich als Juengling trinke,
Sollst du mich in allen Sachen
Dreist und klug, beherzt und weise,
Mir zum Nutz, und dir zum Preise,
Kurz, zu einem Alten machen.
A Radical War Song
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Awake, arise, the hour is come,
For rows and revolutions;
A Christmas Carol
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
The shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly stable-shed
Where the Virgin-Mother lay:
A Mother's Loss.
© Robert Crawford
When I did name her little lost one, she
Brushed from her eyes the precious drops of love,
As if her memory with his sweet name shaken
Trembled, and shed its dew.
America: From the National Ode, July 4, 1876
© James Bayard Taylor
FORESEEN in the vision of sages,
Foretold when martyrs bled,
A Morning Exercise
© William Wordsworth
Through border wilds where naked Indians stray,
Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;
A feathered task-master cries, "WORK AWAY!"
And, in thy iteration, "WHIP POOR WILL!"
Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave,
Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave.
At The Water's Edge
© Rene Francois Armand Prudhomme
To sit and watch the wavelets as they flow
Two - side by side;
To see the gliding clouds that come and
And mark them glide;
