Good poems
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Alec Yeaton's Son
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
The wind it wailed, the wind it moaned,
And the white caps flecked the sea;
"An' I would to God," the skipper groaned,
"I had not my boy with me!
Twilight in the Garden
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
The scent of the earth is moist and good
In the dewy shade
Of the tall, dark poplars whose slender tops
Against the sunset bloom are laid,
And a robin is whistling in the copse
By the dim spruce wood.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto V
© Richard Savage
My hermit thus. She beckons us away:
Oh, let us swift the high behest obey!
Cry Of The Children
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
Thomas the Rhymer
© Sir Walter Scott
Ancient
True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied wi' his ee;
And there he saw a lady bright,
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.
Advent Sunday
© John Keble
Awake-again the Gospel-trump is blown -
From year to year it swells with louder tone,
From year to year the signs of wrath
Are gathering round the Judge's path,
Strange words fulfilled, and mighty works achieved,
And truth in all the world both hated and believed.
Last Words
© Sylvia Plath
I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus
With tigery stripes, and a face on it
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto II.
© George Gordon Byron
1
Tambourgi! Tambourgi! thy 'larum afar
Gives hope to the valiant, and promise of war:
All the sons of the mountains arise at the note,
Chimariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote!
The Princes' Quest - Part the Fifth
© William Watson
So, being risen, the Prince in brief while went
Forth to the market-place, where babblement
Pretence. Part II - The Library
© John Kenyon
From such a world, all touch, all ear, all eye,
What marvel, then, if proud Abstraction fly;
Amid Hercynian shades pursue his theme,
And leave the land of Locke to gold and steam?
The Price Of Riches
© Edgar Albert Guest
Nobody stops at the rich man's door to pass the time of day.
Nobody shouts a "hello!" to him in the good old-fashioned way.
Nothin' To Say
© James Whitcomb Riley
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
Gyrls that's in love, I've noticed, ginerly has their way!
Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me--
Yit here I am, and here you air; and yer mother--where is she?
The four Monarchyes, the Assyrian being the first, beginning under Nimrod, 131. Years after the Floo
© Anne Bradstreet
When time was young, & World in Infancy,
Man did not proudly strive for Soveraignty:
Dramatic Fragment
© Henry Timrod
Let the boy have his will! I tell thee, brother,
We treat these little ones too much like flowers,
The Nobly Born
© James Russell Lowell
Who counts himself as nobly born
Is noble in despite of place;
And honors are but brands to one
Who wears them not with nature's grace.
The Two Wives
© William Dean Howells
THE COLONEL rode by his picket-line
In the pleasant morning sun,
That glanced from him far off to shine
On the crouching rebel pickets gun.
From "Hugh Selwyn Mauberley" (June 1920)
© Ezra Pound
IV
These fought in any case,
and some believing,
pro domo, in any case
The Escape
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
We watched you building, stone by stone,
The well-washed cells and well-washed graves
