Poems begining by A
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At A Calvary Near The Ancre
© Wilfred Owen
One ever hangs where shelled roads part.
In this war He too lost a limb,
But His disciples hide apart;
And now the Soldiers bear with Him.
At The Saturday Club
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I start; I wake; the vision is withdrawn;
Its figures fading like the stars at dawn;
Crossed from the roll of life their cherished names,
And memory's pictures fading in their frames;
Yet life is lovelier for these transient gleams
Of buried friendships; blest is he who dreams!
Answer To A Child's Question
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,
The linnet, and thrush say, 'I love and I love!'
In the winter they're silent, the wind is so strong;
What it says I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
At The Close Of The Canvass
© Ambrose Bierce
'Twas a Venerable Person, whom I met one Sunday morning,
All appareled as a prophet of a melancholy sect;
And in a Jeremiad of objurgatory warning
He lifted up his jodel to the following effect:
A New Year's Plea
© Edgar Albert Guest
Lord, let me stand in the thick of the fight,
Let me bear what I must without whining;
Grant me the wisdom to do what is right,
Though a thousand false beacons are shining.
At The Funeral Of A Minor Poet
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
[One of the Bearers Soliloquizes:]
. . . Room in your heart for him, O Mother Earth,
A New Year's Plaint
© James Whitcomb Riley
In words like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold;
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.
--TENNYSON.
A Naughty Little Comet
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The mother of the comet was a very good old star;
She used to scold her reckless child for venturing out too far.
Ambrose
© James Russell Lowell
Never, surely, was holier man
Than Ambrose, since the world began;
With diet spare and raiment thin
He shielded himself from the father of sin;
With bed of iron and scourgings oft,
His heart to God's hand as wax made soft.
A Modern Invention
© Carolyn Wells
Old Santa Claus is up-to-date,
And hereafter, rumors say,
He'll come with his pack of glittering toys,
And visit the homes of girls and boys,
In a new reindeerless sleigh.
A Las Virgenes
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
¡Oh vírgenes rebeldes y sumisas:
convertidme en el fiel reclinatorio
de vuestros oídos y vuestras sonrisas
y en la fragua sangrienta del holgorio
en que quieren quemarse vuestras prisas!…
A Phylactery
© John Hay
Wise men I hold those rakes of old
Who, as we read in antique story,
When lyres were struck and wine was poured,
Set the white Death's Head on the board--
Memento mori.
An Ode To The King, At His Returning From Scotland To The Queen, After His Coronation There
© Sir Henry Wotton
Rouse up thy self, my gentle Muse,
Though now our green conceits be gray,
And yet once more do not refuse
To take thy Phrygian Harp, and play
In honour of this chearful Day.
A Choice
© Edith Nesbit
THE flood of utter change is loosed. A space
Is ours yet, for its coming to prepare.
A Lament For The Princes Of Tyrone And Tyrconnel
© James Clarence Mangan
O WOMAN of the piercing wail,
Who mournest oer yon mound of clay
A College Career
© Robert Fuller Murray
I
When one is young and eager,
A bejant and a boy,
Though his moustache be meagre,
An Interregnum
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
LOUD trumpets blow among the naked pines,
Fine spun as sere-cloth rent from royal dead.
