Famous poems
/ page 27 of 40 /What Then?
© William Butler Yeats
HIS chosen comrades thought at school
He must grow a famous man;
He thought the same and lived by rule,
All his twenties crammed with toil;
"What then?' sang Plato's ghost. "What then?"
To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias
© Alfred Tennyson
. OLD FITZ, who from your suburb grange,
Where once I tarried for a while,
Brother Of All, With Generous Hand
© Walt Whitman
Brother of all, with generous hand,
Of thee, pondering on thee, as o'er thy tomb, I and my Soul,
A thought to launch in memory of thee,
A burial verse for thee.
XII: Epistle To Elizabeth Countesse Of Rutland
© Benjamin Jonson
Madame,
VVhil'st that, for which all vertue now is sold,
Lines (With A Volume Of The Author's Poems Sent To M.R.C.)
© William Watson
Go, Verse, nor let the grass of tarrying grow
Beneath thy feet iambic. Southward go
The Notion Of Rastus
© Edgar Albert Guest
DERE never was a man on earth
So wonderful or clever,
Dat ever found a way t' live
On dis ole world forever.
What Time the Bugle Blew
© Anonymous
Yes! 'Twas the bugle blew!
The Empire's summons flew;
The Long White Cloud re-echoed loud,
What time the bugle blew!
The Muses Threnodie: Fifth Muse
© Henry Adamson
Yet bold attempt and dangerous, said I,
Upon these kinde of men such chance to try,
Morning
© Emily Dickinson
WILL there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
America for Me
© Henry Van Dyke
'Tis fine to see the Old World and travel up and down
Among the famous palaces and cities of renown,
To admire the crumbly castles and the statues and kings
But now I think I've had enough of antiquated things.
Aurora Leigh: Book Eighth
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In my ears
The sound of waters. There he stood, my king!
Seaside Talkers (Provincetown Summer of 1917)
© Harry Kemp
And while the fishers clung to planks and spars
And rode the huge backs of waves, we sat
Beneath a young night full of summer stars:
And we discussed of life this way and that
Until we felt, when we arose for bed,
That there was nothing left had not been said.
The Sorrow Of Love
© William Butler Yeats
THE brawling of a sparrow in the eaves,
The brilliant moon and all the milky sky,
The Romane Monarchy, being the fourth and last, beginningAnno Mundi , 3213.
© Anne Bradstreet
prologue
After some dayes of rest, my restless heart
The Reverend Dr. L---.
© Mary Barber
In vain you shew a happy Nation,
The Gospel's gracious Dispensation;
And plead from thence, to bring up Youth
To early Piety and Truth.
To unattentive Ears you preach,
What Miseries alone can teach.
Recollections Of Cornwall
© Robert Laurence Binyon
To R. G. R. and H. P. P.
Let not the mind, that would have peace,
Too much repose on former joy,
Nor in pourtraying past delight
Her needed, active power employ!
The Mystic Selvagee
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Perhaps already you may know
SIR BLENNERHASSET PORTICO?
Ode:Inscribed to W.H. Channing
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Though loath to grieve
The evil time's sole patriot,
I cannot leave
My honeyed thought
For the priest's cant,
Or statesman's rant.
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Day.
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays