Poems begining by A
/ page 146 of 345 /At Long Bay
© Henry Kendall
FIVE years ago! you cannot choose
But know the face of change,
Though July sleeps and Spring renews
The gloss in gorge and range.
"According to the Mighty Working"
© Thomas Hardy
When moiling seems at cease
In the vague void of night-time,
And heaven's wide roomage stormless
Between the dusk and light-time,
And fear at last is formless,
We call the allurement Peace.
An Evening Dream
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
I'm leaning where you loved to lean in eventides of old,
The sun has sunk an hour ago behind the treeless wold,
A Lesson From Golf
© Edgar Albert Guest
He couldn't use his driver any better on the tee
Than the chap that he was licking, who just happened to be me;
I could hit them with a brassie just as straight and just as far,
But I piled up several sevens while he made a few in par;
And he trimmed me to a finish, and I know the reason why:
He could keep his temper better when he dubbed a shot than I.
A Lament for the Fairies
© Alaric Alexander Watts
O, ye have lost,
Mountains, and moors, and meads, the radiant throng
A Poet Of One Mood
© Alice Meynell
A poet of one mood in all my lays,
Ranging all life to sing one only love,
Like a west wind across the world I move,
Sweeping my harp of floods mine own wild ways.
Australasia
© William Charles Wentworth
Hadst thou, old Cynic, seen this unclad crew
Stretch their bare bodies in the nightly dew,
Like hairy Satyrs, midst their Sylvan seats,
Endure both winter's frosts, and summer's heats;
Thy cloak and tub away thou wouldst have cast,
And tried, like them, to brave the piercing blast.
At Last
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
In youth, when blood was warm and fancy high,
I mocked at death. How many a quaint conceit
Apparition (1)
© Louis Honoré Fréchette
J'étais allé parer ma chaloupe côtière,
Sur la pointe, là-bas, en amont des brisants,
Pour un voyage au Bic. D'après les médisants,
Dieu voulut me punir, car c'était un dimanche.
Pas plus de vent que sur la main ; mais en revanche,
Un brouillard, mes enfants, à couper au couteau.
At The Banquet To the Japanese Embassy
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WE welcome you, Lords of the Land of the Sun!
The voice of the many sounds feebly through one;
Ah! would 't were a voice of more musical tone,
But the dog-star is here, and the song-birds have flown.
An Elegy, To an Old Beauty
© Thomas Parnell
In vain, poor Nymph, to please our youthful sight
You sleep in cream and frontlets all the night,
Your face with patches soil, with paint repair,
Dress with gay gowns, and shade with foreign hair.
If truth in spight of manners must be told,
Why, really fifty-five is something old.
Alsace-Lorraine
© George Meredith
Yet the like aerial growths may chance be the delicate sprays,
Infant of Earth's most urgent in sap, her fierier zeal
For entry on Life's upper fields: and soul thus flourishing pays
The martyr's penance, mark for brutish in man to heel.
A simple, cheerful active life on earth
© Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
A simple, cheerful, active life on earth,
A cup Id not exchange for monarchs chalice,
Alexander And Phillip
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
The cypress spread their gloom
Like a cloak from the noontide beam,
He flung back his dusty plume,
And plunged in the silver stream;
He plunged like the young steed, fierce and wild,
He was borne away like the feeble child.
An Epistle To Joseph Hill, Esq.
© William Cowper
Dear Joseph,-- five and twenty years ago--
Alas! how time escapes -- 'tis even so!--
A Scare
© Edgar Albert Guest
There are noises that freeze up the blood,
There's the sound of the burglar at night
A Mathematical Problem
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
This is now--this was erst,
Proposition the first--and Problem the first.