Poems begining by A
/ page 184 of 345 /A Mad Fight Song for William S. Carpenter, 1966
© James Wright
Varus, varus, gib mir meine Legionen wieder
Quick on my feet in those Novembers of my loneliness,
I tossed a short pass,
Almost the instant I got the ball, right over the head
Of Barrel Terry before he knocked me cold.
A, B, C.
© Charles Stuart Calverley
A is an Angel of blushing eighteen:
B is the Ball where the Angel was seen:
C is her Chaperone, who cheated at cards:
D is the Deuxtemps, with Frank of the Guards:
A Name
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The name the Gallic exile bore,
St. Malo! from thy ancient mart,
Became upon our Western shore
Greenleaf for Feuillevert.
A Mystery Play
© Duncan Campbell Scott
There must be fire in the city
To throw that yellow glare;
And fire in the little villages
On all the hearthstones there.
a song in the front yard
© Gwendolyn Brooks
I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life.
I want a peek at the back
Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows.
A girl gets sick of a rose.
A Soul in Prison
© Augusta Davies Webster
"They," you'd answer me,
if you owned my instance, "sorrowed in their doubt,
and did not wholly doubt, and loved."
A Galloway Song
© John Keats
Ah! ken ye what I met the day
Out oure the Mountains
A coming down by craggi[e]s grey
An mossie fountains --
Act III, Sc. 2?
© Jorie Graham
Look she said this is not the distance
we wanted to stay at—We wanted to get
A Grave By The Sea
© George Essex Evans
No white cloud sails the lonely sky,
Thro the gaunt trees no breezes sigh,
Andrew Jones
© William Wordsworth
I HATE that Andrew Jones; he'll breed
His children up to waste and pillage.
I wish the press-gang or the drum
With its tantara sound would come,
And sweep him from the village!
A Pastoral Betwixt David, Thirsis, And The Angel Gabriel, Upon The Birth Of Our Saviour
© James Thomson
THIRSIS.
But hold, see hither through the yielding air
An angel comes: for mighty news prepare.
A Little Litany
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
When God turned back eternity and was young,
Ancient of Days, grown little for your mirth
(As under the low arch the land is bright)
Peered through you, gate of heaven-and saw the earth.
All nature has a feeling
© John Clare
All nature has a feeling: woods, fields, brooks
Are life eternal: and in silence they
A Hymn
© James Thomson
These, as they change, Almighty Father, these
Are but the varied God. The rolling year