Change poems
/ page 89 of 246 /
Poetry: A Metrical Essay, Read Before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, Harvard
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Scenes of my youth! awake its slumbering fire!
Ye winds of Memory, sweep the silent lyre!
Ray of the past, if yet thou canst appear,
Break through the clouds of Fancyâs waning year;
Chase from her breast the thin autumnal snow,
If leaf or blossom still is fresh below!
In an Almshouse
© Augusta Davies Webster
They said you were not pretty, owed your charm
to choice of ribbons from your father's shop,
but, as for me, I saw not if you wore
too many ribbons or too few, nor sought
what charms you had beyond that one I knew,
the kind and honest look in your grey eyes.
Present And Future
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Look, as a mother bending o'er her boy,
The sleeping boy that in her bosom lies,
Gazes upon him in a trance of joy
With earnest, infinitely tender eyes,
On the Friendship Betwixt Two Ladies
© Edmund Waller
Tell me, lovely, loving pair!
Why so kind, and so severe?
Why so careless of our care,
Only to yourselves so dear?
Hymn XXXII. Lord, now the time returns,
© John Austin
Lord, now the time returns,
For weary man to rest;
Sonnet XIV: If Thou Must Love Me
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
Cynthia, Because Your Horns
© Fulke Greville
CYNTHIA, because your horns look diverse ways,
Now darken'd to the east, now to the west,
Then at full-glory once in thirty days,
Sense doth believe that change is nature's rest.
The Judgement Of The Poets
© William Cowper
Two nymphs, both nearly of an age,
Of numerous charms possessed,
A warm dispute once chanced to wage,
Whose temper was the best.
The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto V.
© Sir Walter Scott
Lord Dacre
"Forward, brave champions, to the fight!
Sound trumpets!" -
To my mother
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
LIKE streamlets to a silent sea,
These songs with varied motion
Flow from bright fancy's uplands free,
To Lethe's clouded ocean;
An Hymn To Sleep.
© Mary Barber
Written when the Author was sick.
Somnus, pow'rful Deity,
Mortals owe their Bliss to thee.
How long shall I thy Absence mourn,
An Anniversary On The Hymeneals Of My Noble kinsman, Tho. S
© Richard Lovelace
I.
The day is curl'd about agen
To view the splendor she was in;
When first with hallow'd hands
The Muses Threnodie: Sixth Muse
© Henry Adamson
From thence we passing by the Windy Gowle,
Did make the hollow rocks with echoes yowle,
And all alongst the mountains of Kinnoull,
Where did we shoot at many fox and fowl.
Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 OClock Poems)
© Nazim Hikmet
Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...
A Dream
© Matthew Arnold
Was it a dream? We sail'd, I thought we sail'd,
Martin and I, down the green Alpine stream,
"The Undying One" - Canto IV
© Caroline Norton
On she goes, and the waves are dashing
Under her stern, and under her prow;
Oh! pleasant the sound of the waters splashing
To those who the heat of the desert know.
Mid-Day
© John Kenyon
'Tis deepest Mid-day! Not a sound is heard,
Save this low insect-murmur; which yet seems
