Poems begining by A
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An Epigram. Since Milo Rallies Sacred Writ
© Mary Barber
Since Milo rallies sacred Writ,
To win the Title of a Wit;
'Tis pity but he shou'd obtain it,
Who bravely pays his Soul to gain it.
A Dead Harvest [In Kensington Gardens]
© Alice Meynell
Along the graceless grass of town
They rake the rows of red and brown,
Dead leaves, unlike the rows of hay,
Delicate, neither gold nor grey,
Raked long ago and far away.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet IX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
These were in truth brave days. From our high perch,
The box--seat of our travelling chariot, then
We children spied the world 'twas ours to search,
And mocked like birds at manners and at men.
A Lamentation
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Or ever the stars were made, or skies,
Grief was born, and the kinless night,
Mother of gods without form or name.
And light is born out of heaven and dies,
And one day knows not anothers light,
But night is one, and her shape the same.
Aspiration
© Peter McArthur
HOW should I be the master of my ways
When every nerve is vibrant to the sweep
Age And Death
© Emma Lazarus
Come closer, kind, white, long-familiar friend,
Embrace me, fold me to thy broad, soft breast.
A Hyde Park Larrikin
© Henry Kendall
Most likely you have stuck to tracts
Flushed through with flaming curses -
I judge you, neighbour, by your acts -
So don't you damn my verses.
A Dream Of Summer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Bland as the morning breath of June
The southwest breezes play;
A War Song to Englishmen
© William Blake
Prepare, prepare the iron helm of war,
Bring forth the lots, cast in the spacious orb;
Th' Angel of Fate turns them with mighty hands,
And casts them out upon the darken'd earth!
Prepare, prepare!
A Very Mournful Ballad On The Siege And Conquest Of Alhama
© George Gordon Byron
I
THE Moorish King rides up and down,
Through Granada's royal town;
From Elvira's gate to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama!
A Fairy Tale In The Ancient English Style
© Thomas Parnell
In Britain's Isle and Arthur's days,
When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze,
An Epistle To An Editor
© Henry Austin Dobson
"We, that are very old" (the phrase
Is STEELE'S, not mine!), in former days,
Have seen so many "new Reviews"
Arise, arraign, absolve, abuse;--
Proclaim their mission to the top
(Where there's still room!), then slowly drop,
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet X
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Whence is our pleasure in things beautiful?
We are not born with it, we do not know,
By instinct of the eye or natural rule,
That naked rocks are fairest, or flowers blow
An Die Kunstrichter
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Schweigt, unberauschte, finstre Richter!
Ich trinke Wein, und bin ein Dichter.
Tut mir es nach, und trinket Wein,
So seht ihr meine Schoenheit ein.
Sonst wahrlich, unberauschte Richter,
Sonst wahrlich seht ihr sie nicht ein!
A Christmas Carol
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
A Song in Time of Order. 1852
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
PUSH hard across the sand,
For the salt wind gathers breath;
Shoulder and wrist and hand,
Push hard as the push of death.
