Poems begining by A
/ page 141 of 345 /A Deepe Groane Fetch'd at the Funerall of that incomparable and Glorious Monarch, CHARLES THE FIRST
© Henry King
To speak our Griefes as full over thy Tombe
(Great Soul) we should be Thunder-struck, and dumbe:
An Hymne In Honour Of Beautie
© Edmund Spenser
Ah! whither, Love! wilt thou now carry mee?
What wontlesse fury dost thou now inspire
Into my feeble breast, too full of thee?
Whylest seeking to aslake thy raging fyre,
About Denmark
© Piet Hein
Why not let us compromise
about Denmark's proper size,
which will truly please us all,
since it's bigger than it's small.
Astrophel And Stella-Second Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
Have I caught my heav'nly jewel,
Teaching sleep most fair to be?
Now will I teach her that she,
When she wakes, is too, too cruel.
Ave
© Catherine Pozzi
Très haut amour, sil se peut que je meure
Sans avoir su doù je vous possédais,
En quel soleil était votre demeure
En quel passé votre temps, en quelle heure
Je vous aimais,
A Shakespeare Memorial
© Alfred Austin
Why should we lodge in marble or in bronze
Spirits more vast than earth, or sea, or sky?
A Song Of Exmoor
© Sir Henry Newbolt
So hurry along, the stag's afoot,
The Master's up and away!
Halloo! Halloo! we'll follow it through
From Bratton to Porlock Bay!
A Little Memory
© Aldous Huxley
White in the moonlight,
Wet with dew,
We have known the languor
Of being two.
A Suttee
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
GATHER her raven hair in one rich cluster,
Let the white champac light it, as a star
Gives to the dusky night a sudden lustre,
Shining afar.
At Midnight
© Madison Julius Cawein
At midnight in the trysting wood
I wandered by the waterside,
When, soft as mist, before me stood
My sweetheart who had died.
A Receipt To Restore Stellas Youth. 1724-5
© Jonathan Swift
The Scottish hinds, too poor to house
In frosty nights their starving cows,
While not a blade of grass or hay
Appears from Michaelmas to May,
A Paradox, That The Sick Are In A Better Case Than The Whole
© George Herbert
You who admire yourselves because
You neither groan nor weep,
And think it contrary to Nature's laws
To want one ounce of sleep,
Your strong belief
Acquits yourselves, and gives the sick all grief.
And That I Walk Thus Proudly Crowned Withal
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
And that I walk thus proudly crowned withal
Is that 'tis my distinction; if I fall,
I shall not weep out of the vital day,
To-morrow dust, nor wear a dull decay.
An Invitation
© James Russell Lowell
Nine years have slipt like hour-glass sand
From life's still-emptying globe away,
Since last, dear friend, I clasped your hand,
And stood upon the impoverished land,
Watching the steamer down the bay.
Alfs Third Bit
© Ezra Pound
Syrup and soothing dope,
Sure, they can live on hope,
Ain't yeh got precedent ?
Ten years and twelve years gone,
Ten more and nothing done,
GOD save Britannia!
An Election Night Pantoum
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Gaze at the good-natured crowd,
List to the noise and the rattle!
Heavens! that woman is loud--
Loud as the din of a battle.
A Night Ride
© Arlo Bates
His swart cheek tingled with the rain,
So swift he rode that night;
But all his speed no boon might gain
Save to kiss, in a rapture of love and pain,
Dead lips at morning light.