Poems begining by A
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A Goodnight
© William Carlos Williams
Go to sleepthough of course you will not
to tideless waves thundering slantwise against
strong embankments, rattle and swish of spray
dashed thirty feet high, caught by the lake wind,
April Is The Saddest Month
© William Carlos Williams
There they were
stuck
dog and bitch
halving the compass
A Sort Of A Song
© William Carlos Williams
Let the snake wait under
his weed
and the writing
be of words, slow and quick, sharp
A Patriot
© Edgar Albert Guest
It's funny when a feller wants to do his little bit,
And wants to wear a uniform and lug a soldier's kit,
And ain't afraid of submarines nor mines that fill the sea,
They will not let him go along to fight for liberty
They make him stay at home and be his mother's darling pet,
But you can bet there'll come a time when they will want me yet.
And as its Going
© Anna Akhmatova
And as it's going often at love's breaking,
The ghost of first days came again to us,
The silver willow through window then stretched in,
The silver beauty of her gentle branches.
A Coquette Conquered
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Yes, my ha't's ez ha'd ez stone
Go 'way, Sam, an' lemme 'lone.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Enough, dear Paris! We have laughed together,
'Tis time that we should part, lest tears should come.
I must fare on from winter and rough weather
And the dark tempests chained within Time's womb.
A Fragment
© Thomas Love Peacock
Nay, deem me not insensible, Cesario,
To female charms; nor think this heart of mine
A Cloud In Trousers - part IV
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
In the streets
men will prick the blubber of four-story craws,
thrust out their little eyes,
worn in forty years of wear and tear to snigger
at my champing
again! on the hard crust of yesterday's caress.
Art
© Allen Tate
When you are come by ways emptied of light
You'll say goodby, in that indifferent gloom,
To the quick draughts of old, yet with polite
Anguish of pride recall as an heirloom
A dawn when stars dropped gold about your head
And, so amazed, you knew not were you dead.
A Question Answered
© Alfred Austin
I saw the lark at break of day
Rise from its dewy bed,
And, winged with melody, away
Circle to Heaven o'erhead.
A Passing Hail
© James Whitcomb Riley
Let us rest ourselves a bit!
Worry?- wave your hand to it -
Kiss your finger-tips and smile
It farewell a little while.
Anactoria
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
MY LIFE is bitter with thy love; thine eyes
Blind me, thy tresses burn me, thy sharp sighs
A Seventeenth-Century Song
© Louise Imogen Guiney
She alone of Shepherdesses
With her blue disdayning eyes,
Aspects Of Robinson
© Weldon Kees
Robinson at cards at the Algonquin; a thin
Blue light comes down once more outside the blinds.
Gray men in overcoats are ghosts blown past the door.
The taxis streak the avenues with yellow, orange, and red.
This is Grand Central, Mr. Robinson.
A Song Of Delight
© Alice Guerin Crist
Oh! Have you stolen out, one summer morning
To pick white crocus neath the garden wall,
Or shaken softly the big scented roses
And watched the dew-drops fall?
At The Grave Of Charles Lamb, In Edmonton
© William Watson
Not here, O teeming City, was it meet
Thy lover, thy most faithful, should repose,
