Art poems
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Sonnet XI: The Love-Letter
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Warmed by her hand and shadowed by her hair
As close she leaned and poured her heart through thee,
Latest Views Of Mr. Biglow
© James Russell Lowell
Ef I a song or two could make
Like rockets druv by their own burnin',
The Substitute
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
How say'st, thou? die to-morrrow? Oh! my friend!
The bitter, bitter doom!
What hast thou done to tempt this ghastly end--
This death of shame and gloom?
When I Was an Editor
© Stephan Stephansson
So maudlin, with pity and pathos I stood
If someone who erred got the lashes;
If hanged, I'd weep over the ashes.
With vocal dispraise such injustice I viewed
Sappho to Phaon (Ovid Heroid XV)
© Alexander Pope
Say, lovely youth, that dost my heart command,
Can Phaon's eyes forget his Sappho's hand?
To My Father (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Oh that Pieria's spring would thro' my breast
Pour its inspiring influence, and rush
What the Frost Casts Up by Ed Ochester: American Life in Poetry #150 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
There's a world of great interest and significance right under our feet, but most of us don't think to look down. We spend most of our time peering off into the future, speculating on how we will deal with whatever is coming our way. Or dwelling on the past. Here Ed Ochester stops in the middle of life to look down.
What the Frost Casts Up
Satyr XII. The Test Of Poetry
© Thomas Parnell
Much have I writt, says Bavius, Mankind knows
By my quick printing how my fancy flows:
To My Truely Valiant, Learned Friend; Who In His Brooke Res
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Hearke, reader! wilt be learn'd ith' warres?
A gen'rall in a gowne?
Strike a league with arts and scarres,
And snatch from each a crowne?
The Columbiad: Book IX
© Joel Barlow
Shrouded in deeper darkness now he veers
The vast gyration of a thousand years,
Strikes out each lamp that would illume his way,
Disputes his food with every beast of prey;
Imbands his force to fence his trist abodes,
A wretched robber with his feudal codes.
To William Camden
© Benjamin Jonson
Camden, most reverend head, to whom I owe
All that I am in arts, all that I know
The Choir At Pixley
© Edgar Albert Guest
The choir we had in Pixley wasn't much for looks an' styles,
But today if I could hear it I would walk a hundred miles;
Unanointed
© Madison Julius Cawein
Upon the Siren-haunted seas, between Fate's mythic shores,
Within a world of moon and mist, where dusk and daylight wed,
I see a phantom galley and its hull is banked with oars,
With ghostly oars that move to song, a song of dreams long dead:
Shakespeare
© Henry Ames Blood
There, too, that Spanish galleon of a hulk,
Ben Jonson, lying at full length,
Should so dispose his goodly bulk
That he might lie at ease upon his back,
To test the tone and strength
Of Bonifaces sherris-sack.
The Strong Heroic Line
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FRIENDS of the Muse, to you of right belong
The first staid footsteps of my square-toed song;
