Poems begining by A
/ page 246 of 345 /
America In 1904
© Edgar Lee Masters
(Europe Conquers America.)
Strong for the strong and in his own conceit;
Half-boy, half-madman, playing with the fire;
Usurper, hoodlum, wed to his desire;
At Peace
© Amado Ruiz de Nervo
Very near my setting sun, I bless you, Life
because you never gave me neither unfilled hope
nor unfair work, nor undeserved sorrow/pain
An Hymn upon St. Bartholomew's Day
© Thomas Traherne
What powerful Spirit lives within!
What active Angel doth inhabit here!
Aholibamah's Monologue
© George Gordon Byron
Let them fly!
I hear the voice which says that all must die,
Ardelia to Melancholy
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
At last, my old inveterate foe,
No opposition shalt thou know.
Since I by struggling, can obtain
Nothing, but encrease of pain,
An Invitation to Dafnis
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Come, and lett Sansons World, no more engage,
Altho' he gives a Kingdom in a page;
O're all the Vniverse his lines may goe,
And not a clime, like temp'rate brittan show,
Come then, my Dafnis, and her feilds survey,
And throo' the groves, with your Ardelia stray.
An EPISTLE from Alexander to Hephaestion In His Sickness
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
But why these single Griefs shou'd I expose?
The World no Mirth, no War, no Bus'ness knows,
But, hush'd with Sorrow stands, to favour thy Repose.
An EPISTLE From A Gentleman To Madam Deshouliers
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Nor with the Happiness I taste,
Let any jealous Doubts contend:
Her Friendship is secure to last,
Beginning where all others end.
An Apology for my fearfull temper
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Tis true of courage I'm no mistress
No Boadicia nor Thalestriss
Nor shall I e'er be famed hereafter
For such a Soul as Cato's Daughter
Alcidor
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
While Monarchs in stern Battle strove
For proud Imperial Sway;
Abandon'd to his milder Love,
Within a silent peaceful Grove,
Alcidor careless lay.
Adam Pos'd
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Cou'd our First Father, at his toilsome Plough,
Thorns in his Path, and Labour on his Brow,
Cloath'd only in a rude, unpolish'd Skin,
Cou'd he a vain Fantastick Nymph have seen,
A Tale of the Miser and the Poet
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Noquoth the Man of broken Slumbers:
Yet we have Patrons for our Numbers;
There are Mecænas's among 'em.
A Song
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Thus, whilst with Art she plays, and sings
I to Miranda, standing by,
Impute the Music of the Strings,
And all the melting Words apply
A Pastoral Dialogue Between Two Shepherdesses
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
[Dorinda] No! my Chaplet wou'd decay;
Ev'ry drooping Flow'r wou'd mourn,
And wrong the Face, they shou'd adorn.
A Woman Commends Her Little Son
© Katharine Tynan
To the aid of my little son
I call all the magnalities --
Archangel, Dominion,
Powers and Principalities.
A Dead Baby
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
LITTLE soul, for such brief space that entered
In this little body straight and chilly,
Little life that fluttered and departed,
Like a moth from an unopened lily,
Little being, without name or nation,
Where is now thy place among creation?
After Us
© Connie Wanek
I don't know if we're in the beginning
or in the final stage.
-- Tomas Tranströmer
A Song of the Lilac
© Louise Imogen Guiney
Above the wall that's broken,
And from the coppice thinned,
