Poems begining by A

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At A Dinner To Admiral Farragut

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

JULY 6, 1865

Now, smiling friends and shipmates all,

A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day, Being the Shortest Day

© John Donne

'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's,

Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks;

Asking in Vain

© Charles Harpur

But the wind alone is heard
Sighing in reply,
Where the long grave-grass is stirred
As it floweth by.

A Testimony

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

I said of laughter: it is vain.
Of mirth I said: what profits it?
Therefore I found a book, and writ
Therein how ease and also pain,
How health and sickness, every one
Is vanity beneath the sun.

A Word to the Wise

© Piet Hein

Let the world pass in its time-ridden race;
never get caught in its snare.
Remember, the only acceptable case
for being in any particular place
is having no business there.

Ars Longa, Vita Brevis

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

I STARTED on a lonely road.
A few companions with me went.
Some fell behind, some forward strode,
But all on one high purpose bent:

It was many and many a year ago,
In a city by the sea,
That a man there lived whom I happened to know
By the name of Andrew M'Crie;
And this man he slept in another room,
But ground and had meals with me.

A Hymn for Evening

© Thomas Parnell

The beam-repelling mists arise,

And evening spreads obscurer skies;

A Cabin Tale

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Dah now, ain't dat sto'y fine?
Run erlong now, nevah min'.
Want some mo', you rascal, you?
No, suh! no, suh! dat 'll do.

A Poet's Soliloquy

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

ON a time not of old
When a poet had sent out his soul and no welcome had found
Where the heart of the nation in prose stood fettered and bound
In fold upon fold
He called back his soul who had pined for an answer afloat;
And thus in the silence of night and the pride of his spirit he wrote.

A More Ancient Mariner

© Bliss William Carman

The swarthy bee is a buccaneer,
A burly velveted rover,
Who loves the booming wind in his ear
As he sails the seas of clover.

Address

(OPENING OF THE CALIFORNIA THEATRE, SAN FRANCISCO, JANUARY 19, 1870)

Brief words, when actions wait, are well:

A Dream Of Sappho

``Stranger! the voice that trembles in your ear,
You would have placed, had you been fancy--free,
First in the chorus of the happiest sphere,
The home of deified mortality:

A Mystery

They are dying! they are dying! where the golden corn is growing,
They are dying! they are dying! where the crowded herds are lowing;
They are gasping for existence where the streams of life are flowing,
And they perish of the plague where the breeze of health is blowing!