Poems begining by A
/ page 47 of 345 /
Allurement
© Madison Julius Cawein
Across the world she sends me word,
From gardens fair as Falerina's,
Now by a blossom, now a bird,
To come to her, who long has lured
With magic sweeter than Alcina's.
After Death
© Edith Nesbit
IF we must part, this parting is the best:
How would you bear to lay
Your head on some warm pillow far away--
Your head, so used to lying on my breast?
A Mountain Storm
© Katharine Lee Bates
OUR blue sierras shone serene, sublime,
When ghostly shapes came crowding up the air,
Autre chanson
© Victor Marie Hugo
L'aube naît, et ta porte est close !
Ma belle, pourquoi sommeiller ?
A l'heure où s'éveille la rose
Ne vas-tu pas te réveiller ?
Atalanta
© Gaius Valerius Catullus
Its as pleasing to me as, they say,
that golden apple was to the swift girl,
that loosed her belt, too long tied.
A Wild Iris
© Madison Julius Cawein
That day we wandered 'mid the hills,--so lone
Clouds are not lonelier,--the forest lay
In emerald darkness 'round us. Many a stone
And gnarly root, gray-mossed, made wild our way;
And many a bird the glimmering light along
Showered the golden bubbles of its song.
Asphalt
© Conrad Aiken
Light your cigarette, then, in this shadow,
And talk to her, your arm engaged with hers.
Heavily over your heads the eaten maple
In the dead air of August strains and stirs.
Alice And The White Knight
© Lewis Carroll
Alice was walking beside the White Knight in Looking Glass Land.
"You are sad." the Knight said in an anxious tone: "let me sing you a song to comfort you."
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - January
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
And Here The Hermit Sat
© William Ellery Channing
And here the hermit sat, and told his beads,
And stroked his flowing locks, red as the fire,
A Russian Tale
© Zbigniew Herbert
The tsar our little father had grown old, very old. Now he could not even strangle a dove with his own hands. Sitting on his throne he was golden and frigid. Only his beard grew, down to the floor and farther.
Then someone else ruled, it was not known who. Curious folk peeped into the palace windows but Krivonosov screened the windows with gibbets. Thus only the hanged saw anything.
An Unpraised Picture
© Richard Francis Burton
I SAW a picture once by Angelo.
Unfinished, said the critic; done in youth;
A Garden Idyl
© George Meredith
Next day was told what deeds of night
Were done; the web had vanished quite;
With it the strange opposing pair;
And listless waved on vacant air,
For her adieu to heart's content,
A solitary filament.
At The Gill-Nets
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Tug at the net,
Haul at the net,
Strip off the quivering fish;
Hid in the mist
The winds whist,
Is like my heart's wish.
A Riddle, On The Letter E
© George Gordon Byron
The beginning of eternity, the end of time and space,
The beginning of every end, and the end of every place.
At a Life's End
© Muriel Stuart
COME here, rekindle the old fire,
This last night leave no lamp unlit!
In later days we twain shall sit,
Remembering the joys of it,-
The warmth and sweetness of desire.
At The Turn Of The Road
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE glory has passed from the goldenrod's plume,
The purple-hued asters still linger in bloom
The birch is bright yellow, the sumachs are red,
The maples like torches aflame overhead.
An Ode For St. Cecilia's Day
© Joseph Addison
Nor made his amorous complaint:
In vain her eyes his heart had charm'd.
Her heavenly voice her eyes disarm'd,
And chang'd the lover to a saint.
