Poems begining by A
/ page 180 of 345 /A Christmas Carol. From The Noei Bourguignon De Gui Barozai
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I hear along our street
Pass the minstrel throngs;
At the Justice Department November 15, 1969
© Denise Levertov
Brown gas-fog, white
beneath the street lamps.
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.
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,
A Holocaust
© Francis Thompson
'No man ever attained supreme knowledge, unless his heart had been
torn up by the roots.'
A Greeting
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Thrice welcome from the Land of Flowers
And golden-fruited orange bowers
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
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?
A Renascence
© Robert Graves
White flabbiness goes brown and lean,
Dumpling arms are now brass bars,
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.
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.
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!
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.
An Introduction to My Anthology
© Marvin Bell
Such a book must contain—
it always does!—a disclaimer.
“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.