Poems begining by A
/ page 285 of 345 /Astrophel And Stella-Eleventh Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
"Who is it that this dark night
Underneath my window plaineth?"
'It is one who from thy sight
Being, ah! exiled, disdaineth
Every other vulgar light.'
Astrophel And Stella-Sonnet LIV
© Sir Philip Sidney
Because I breathe not love to every one,
Nor do not use set colours for to wear,
Nor nourish special locks of vowed hair,
Nor give each speech a full point of a groan,
Astrophel and Stella: I
© Sir Philip Sidney
ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: I
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,--
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
A Nameless Grave
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"A soldier of the Union mustered out,"
Is the inscription on an unknown grave
A Poet's Epitaph
© Madison Julius Cawein
LIFE was unkind to him;
All things went wrong:
Fortune assigned to him
Merely a song.
A Song of Truce
© Robert Fuller Murray
Till the tread of marching feet
Through the quiet grass-grown street
Of the little town shall come,
Soldier, rest awhile at home.
A Reading Of Life--With The Persuader
© George Meredith
So is it sung in any space
She fills, with laugh at shallow laws
Forbidding love's devised embrace,
The music Beauty from it draws.
April
© Louise Gluck
You have no place in this garden
thinking such things, producing
the tiresome outward signs; the man
pointedly weeding an entire forest,
the woman limping, refusing to change clothes
or wash her hair.
All Hallows
© Louise Gluck
Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
Sleep in their blue yoke,
The fields having been
All Souls
© Katharine Tynan
THERE'S traffic in the worlds immortal,
For many souls are flying home,
Striving and pushing at the portal
For sight of glorious things to come.
A Fantasy
© Louise Gluck
I'll tell you something: every day
people are dying. And that's just the beginning.
Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,
new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,
trying to decide about this new life.
A Kiss
© Henry Austin Dobson
Rose kissed me to-day.
Will she kiss me tomorrow?
Let it be as it may,
Rose kissed me today.
Alzheimers
© Chris Tusa
My grandmothers teeth stare at her
from a mason jar on the nightstand.The radio turns itself on,
sunlight crawls through the window,and she thinks she feels her bright blue eyes
rolling out her head.Shes certain her blood has turned to dirt,
A Portrait
© Harriet Monroe
The little world span round and round,
Singing along her sunny ways,
And all the glory she unwound
She gave to him for joy and praise.
Autobiography (polish It Like A Piece Of Silver)
© Richard Brautigan
I am standing in the cemetery at Byrds, Texas.
What did Judy say? "God-forsaken is beautiful, too."
A very old man who has cancer on his face and takes
care of the cemetery, is raking a grave in such a
manner as to almost (polish it like a piece of silver.
At the California Institute of Technology
© Richard Brautigan
Written January 24, 1967
while poet-in-residence at
the California Institute of
Technology.
All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace
© Richard Brautigan
I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammels and computers
As the Ruin Falls
© Clive Staples Lewis
All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
An Expostulation
© Clive Staples Lewis
Against too many writers of science fiction Why did you lure us on like this,
Light-year on light-year, through the abyss,
Building (as though we cared for size!)
Empires that cover galaxies
After Prayers, Lie Cold
© Clive Staples Lewis
Arise my body, my small body, we have striven
Enough, and He is merciful; we are forgiven.
Arise small body, puppet-like and pale, and go,
White as the bed-clothes into bed, and cold as snow,