Poems begining by A

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At the New Year

© Kenneth Patchen

In the shape of this night, in the still fall

      of snow, Father

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A Christmas Carol. From The Noei Bourguignon De Gui Barozai

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  I hear along our street

  Pass the minstrel throngs;

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At the Justice Department November 15, 1969

© Denise Levertov

Brown gas-fog, white

beneath the street lamps.

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A Phenomenal Fauna

© Carolyn Wells

THE REG'LAR LARK


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A Poem Beginning with a Line by Pindar

© Robert Duncan

I
The light foot hears you and the brightness begins
god-step at the margins of thought,
 quick adulterous tread at the heart. 

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A Letter to her Husband, absent upon Publick employment

© Anne Bradstreet

My head, my heart, mine Eyes, my life, nay more,

My joy, my Magazine of earthly store,

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A Holocaust

© Francis Thompson

'No man ever attained supreme knowledge, unless his heart had been

torn up by the roots.'

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Aunt Helen

© Thomas Stearns Eliot



Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden aunt,

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A Greeting

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Thrice welcome from the Land of Flowers

And golden-fruited orange bowers

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A Wedding

© James Tate

She was in terrible pain the whole day,
as she had been for months: a slipped disc, 
and there is nothing more painful. She

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A Penitent Considers Another Coming of Mary

© Gwendolyn Brooks

For Reverend Theodore Richardson
If Mary came would Mary 
Forgive, as Mothers may, 
And sad and second Saviour 
Furnish us today?

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A Renascence

© Robert Graves

White flabbiness goes brown and lean,

  Dumpling arms are now brass bars,

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A Clear Midnight

© Walt Whitman

THIS is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou
  lovest best.
Night, sleep, death and the stars.

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Above Pate Valley

© Gary Snyder

We finished clearing the last 

Section of trail by noon,

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A Ballad of François Villon, Prince of All Ballad-Makers

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

Prince of sweet songs made out of tears and fire,
A harlot was thy nurse, a God thy sire;
 Shame soiled thy song, and song assoiled thy shame.
But from thy feet now death has washed the mire,
Love reads out first at head of all our quire,
 Villon, our sad bad glad mad brother's name.

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Address For The Opening Of The Fifth Avenue Theatre

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

HANG out our banners on the stately tower
It dawns at last--the long-expected hour!
The steep is climbed, the star-lit summit won,
The builder's task, the artist's labor done;
Before the finished work the herald stands,
And asks the verdict of your lips and hands!

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A Summons

© Frances Anne Kemble

  O thou beloved, by whom I stand,
  Straining in mine thy kindred hand,
  Farewell!—on yonder mountain's brow
  I see a beckoning hand of snow;
  Stern winter dares no nearer come,
  But waves me towards his northern home.

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An Introduction to My Anthology

© Marvin Bell

Such a book must contain— 

it always does!—a disclaimer.

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A Sake Barrel

© Ihara Saikaku

A sake barrel,
Born without hands, makes merry —
Cherry blossom time

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“Alone I stare into the frost’s white face”

© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

Alone I stare into the frost’s white face. 
It’s going nowhere, and I—from nowhere. 
Everything ironed flat, pleated without a wrinkle: 
Miraculous, the breathing plain.