Poems begining by A

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A Psalm Of Resignation

© Joseph Furphy

In spite of his imposing plea,

A freeman whom the truth makes free

At Stratford-Upon-Avon

© Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Thus spake his dust (so seemed it as I read

The words): Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbeare

A Rebus

© Phillis Wheatley

A bird delicious to the taste,
On which an army once did feast,
Sent by an hand unseen;
A creature of the horned race,
Which Britain's royal standards grace;
A gem of vivid green;

Awakening

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Out of first sleep as they awoke
The moon had stolen upon her face.
It seemed that they had opened eyes
New on another world and place.

An Old Song

© Dorothea Mackellar

The almond bloom is overpast, the apple blossoms blow.

I never loved but one man, and I never told him so.

All The Bells Were Ringing

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

All the bells were ringing

And all the birds were singing,

Dear is my little native vale,
The ring-dove builds and murmurs there;
Close by my cot she tells her tale
To every passing villager.
The squirrel leaps from tree to tree,
And shells his nuts at liberty.

As In The Midst Of Battle There Is Room

© George Santayana

As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;

A Tumbler Of Claret

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

I poured out a tumbler of Claret,

Of course with intention to drink,

Affinities

© Mathilde Blind

TAKE me to thy heart, and let me
Rest my head a little while;
Rest my heart from griefs that fret me
In the mercy of thy smile.

Apology

© Arthur Symons

Why is it that I sing no songs of you,

Now, as in those old days I used to do?

Asleep In The Valley

© Arthur Rimbaud

A small green valley where a slow stream flows
And leaves long strands of silver on the bright
Grass; from the mountaintop stream the Sun's
Rays; they fill the hollow full of light.

A Prologue To The Scholars. A Comaedy Presented At The White Fryers

© Richard Lovelace

A gentleman, to give us somewhat new,

Hath brought up OXFORD with him to show you;

Alcide "Slow Drag" Pavageau

Walking with Jesus the slow,
behind the beat. Mr. Resistance.
Mr. Ohm, Mr. Exactly Lame.

A Man Meets A Woman In The Street

Under the separated leaves of shade

Of the gingko, that old tree

A Vision Of The Vatican

Graciously smiling, heavenly Aphrodite
Hath filled my senses with a vague delight;
And Pallas, steadfastly beholding me,
Hath sent me forth in wisdom to be free."

An Artist

That sculptor we knew, the passionate-eyed son of a quarryman,
Who astonished Rome and Paris in his meteor youth, and then
was gone, at his high tide of triumphs,
Without reason or good-bye; I have seen him again lately, after
twenty years, but not in Europe.