Poems begining by A
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A True Maid
© Matthew Prior
No, no; for my virginity,
When I lose that, says Rose, I'll die:
Behind the elms last night, cried Dick,
Rose, were you not extremely sick?
A Workman to the Gods
© Edwin Markham
Once Phidias stood, with hammer in his hand,
Carving Minerva from the breathing stone,
A Winter Dream
© Arthur Rimbaud
In winter well travel in a little pink carriage
With cushions of blue.
Well be fine. A nest of mad kisses waits
In each corner too.
Afraid Of His Dad
© Edgar Albert Guest
Bill Jones, who goes to school with me,
Is the saddest boy I ever see.
After great pain, a formal feeling comes – (372)
© Emily Dickinson
After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’
And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?
A Baroque Wall-Fountain in the Villa Sciarra
© Lola Ridge
for Dore and Adja
Under the bronze crown
Too big for the head of the stone cherub whose feet
A serpent has begun to eat,
Sweet water brims a cockle and braids down
A Carafe, that is a Blind Glass
© Gertrude Stein
A kind in glass and a cousin, a spectacle and nothing strange a single hurt color and an arrangement in a system to pointing
A Wreath Of Sonnets (4/14)
© France Preseren
These tear-stained flowers of a poet's mind,
Culled from my bosom, lay it wholly bare;
My heart's a garden: Love is sowing there
Sad elegies each with my longing signed.
Ah! Why, Because the Dazzling Sun
© Emily Jane Brontë
Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored my earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?
Alton Locke's Song
© Charles Kingsley
Weep, weep, weep and weep,
For pauper, dolt, and slave!
Hark! from wasted moor and fen,
Feverous alley, stifling den,
Swells the wail of Saxon men-
Work! or the grave!
Anteros
© Gerard de Nerval
Tu demandes pourquoi j'ai tant de rage au coeur
Et sur un col flexible une tête indomptée;
"A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail"
© Lesbia Harford
A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail
On the same afternoon! Indeed I know
Here in the South it always happens so,
That lilac is companioned by the gale.
A True Maid
© Erik Bogh
No, no; for my virginity,
When I lose that, says Rose, Ill die:
Behind the elms, last night, cried Dick,
Rose, were you not extremely sick?
Amoretti XV: Ye tradefull Merchants that with weary toyle
© Edmund Spenser
Ye tradefull Merchants that with weary toyle,
Do seeke most pretious things to make your gain:
A Parting
© Mathilde Blind
The year is on the wing, my love,
With tearful days and nights;
The clouds are on the wing above
With gathering swallow-flights.
Augustus Peabody Gardner
© John Jay Chapman
I SEEwithin my spiritmystic walls,
And slender windows casting hallowed light
