Poems begining by A
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A Wish (III)
© Frances Anne Kemble
Oh that I were a fairy sprite, to wander
In forest paths, o'erarched with oak and beech;
Arnold Rode Behind
© Roderic Quinn
WE galloped down the sodden track
Close buttoned 'gainst the wind;
I took the lead with whip and spur,
And Arnold rode behind.
Autumn Air
© Li Po
The autumn air is clear,
The autumn moon is bright.
Fallen leaves gather and scatter,
The jackdaw perches and starts anew.
We think of each other- when will we meet?
This hour, this night, my feelings are hard.
And What Have You To Say?
© Henry Lawson
I MIND the days when ladies fair
Helped on my overcoat,
And tucked the silken handkerchief
About my precious throat;
They used to see the poets soul
In every song I wrote.
At A Dinner To General Grant
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
JULY 31, 1865
WHEN treason first began the strife
Avitor
© Francis Bret Harte
What was it filled my youthful dreams,
In place of Greek or Latin themes,
Or beauty's wild, bewildering beams?
Avitor!
A Christmas Colloquy
© John Crowe Ransom
ANN:
Father, what will there be for me
To-morrow on the Christmas tree?
Have you told Santa what to bring,
My pony, my doll, and everything?
Advice To A Friend On Marriage
© Eustache Deschamps
Soon you will long that you were dead
When married; seek in street or lane
Some love. No! Passion bids me wed.
You're crazybatter out your brain.
A Dream
© Boris Pasternak
I dreamt of autumn in the window's twilight,
And you, a tipsy jesters' throng amidst. '
And like a falcon, having stooped to slaughter,
My heart returned to settle on your wrist.
At The Ferry
© Archibald Lampman
On such a day the shrunken stream
Spends its last water and runs dry;
A salutation of his Majesties Ship the Soveraign
© Henry King
Move on thou floating Trophee built to fame!
And bid her trump spread thy Majestick name;
That the blew Tritons, and those petty Gods
Which sport themselves upon the dancing floods,
Ah! Where Are Hours Departed Fled? (excerpt)
© Walther von der Vogelweide
Ah! where are hours departed fled?
Is life a dream, or true indeed?
A Meeting
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Quite carelessly I turned the newsy sheet;
A song I sang, full many a year ago,
Smiled up at me, as in a busy street
One meets an old-time friend he used to know.
A Lost Love
© Henry Francis Lyte
I meet thy pensive, moonlight face;
Thy thrilling voice I hear;
And former hours and scenes retrace,
Too fleeting, and too dear!
A dialogue between Sir Henry Wootton and Mr. Donne
© John Donne
IF her disdain least change in you can move,
You do not love,
For when that hope gives fuel to the fire,
You sell desire.
Love is not love, but given free ;
And so is mine ; so should yours be.
Accolon Of Gaul: Part IV
© Madison Julius Cawein
Hate, born of Wrath and mother red of Crime,
In Hell was whelped ere the hot hands of time,
After Death
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THE FOUR boards of the coffin lid
Heard all the dead man did.
A Black Patch On Lucasta's Face
© Richard Lovelace
Dull as I was, to think that a court fly
Presum'd so neer her eye;
When 'twas th' industrious bee
Mistook her glorious face for paradise,
Another on Eurymedon
© Theocritus
Prove, traveller, now, that you honour the brave
Above the poltroon, when he's laid in the grave,
By murmuring 'Peace to Eurymedon dead.'
The turf should lie light on so sacred a head.
