Poems begining by A
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Anacreon's Apology
© Gamaliel Bradford
An eye where love with laughter twinkles,
And songs on kisses still insistent,
Blended with graying hair and wrinkles,
To you, my child, seem inconsistent?
Adieu To A Solider
© Walt Whitman
Adieu, dear comrade!
Your mission is fulfill'd-but I, more warlike,
Myself, and this contentious soul of mine,
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Bodys Senses
© Paul Eluard
All the trees all their branches all of their leaves
The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse
Far off the sea that your eye bathes
These images of day after day
A Flight of Wild Ducks
© Charles Harpur
Far up the River-hark! 'tls the loud shock
Deadened by distance, of some Fowler's gun:
A Good Soldier
© Edgar Albert Guest
He writes to us most every day, and how his letters thrill us!
I can't describe the joys with which his quaint expressions fill us.
He says the military life is not of his selection,
He's only soldiering to-day to give the Flag protection.
But since he's in the army now and doing duties humble,
He'll do what all good soldiers must, and he will never grumble.
A Childs Song Of Christmas
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
MY counterpane is soft as silk,
My blankets white as creamy milk.
The hay was soft to Him, I know,
Our little Lord of long ago.
At Eleusis
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I, at Eleusis, saw the finest sight,
When early morning's banners were unfurled.
From high Olympus, gazing on the world,
The ancient gods once saw it with delight.
At The Last.
© Robert Crawford
The sky grows white with the moon,
And the sea yearns up to the night
As the soul to an unknown height,
Drawn thence by a starry rune.
A Song Of A Spring-Time
© Augusta Davies Webster
TOO rash, sweet birds, spring is not spring;
Sharp winds are fell in east and north;
Late blossoms die for peeping forth; Rains numb, frost blights;
Days are unsunned, storms tear the nights;
The tree-buds wilt before they swell.
Frosts in the buds, and frost-winds fell: And you, you sing.
A Losse Saraband
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Nay, prethee, dear, draw nigher,
Yet closer, nigher yet;
Here is a double fire,
A Cossack Charge
© Jessie Pope
Cossacks they're coming!
The eager hoofs are drumming,
On glinting steel the autumn sunlight glances.
The distant mass draws nearer,
The surging line shows clearer
An angry, tossing wave of manes and lances.
A Dream
© Mathilde Blind
Only a dream, a beautiful baseless dream;
Only a bright
Flash from your eyes, a brief electrical gleam,
Charged with delight.
A Flower Of The Fields
© Madison Julius Cawein
Bee-bitten in the orchard hung
The peach; or, fallen in the weeds,
Lay rotting: where still sucked and sung
The gray bee, boring to its seed's
Pink pulp and honey blackly stung.
Assassins
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Assassins find accomplices. Man's merit
Has found him three, the hawk, the hound, the ferret.
A Legend Of The Lily
© Madison Julius Cawein
Pale as a star that shines through rain
Her face was seen at the window-pane,
Her sad, frail face that watched in vain.
Ausonius Lib. Epig.
© Richard Lovelace
Trinarii quodam currentem in littoris ora
Ante canes leporem caeruleus rapuit;
At lepus: in me omnis terrae pelagique rapina est,
Forsitan et coeli, si canis astra tenet.
A Sonnet Upon The Pitiful Burning Of The Globe Playhouse In
© Anonymous
Now sit thee down, Melpomene,
Wrapp'd in a sea-coal robe,
And tell the doleful tragedy
That late was play'd at Globe;
