Good poems
/ page 138 of 545 /
The Door Of Humility
© Alfred Austin
ENGLAND
We lead the blind by voice and hand,
And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand
The How and Why of such as He;
Knoledge, Acquayntance, Resort, Fauour With Grace
© John Skelton
Knoledge, acquayntance, resort, fauour with grace;
Delyte, desyre, respyte wyth lyberte;
Noddin' By De Fire
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
SOME folks t'inks hit's right an' p'opah,
Soon ez bedtime come erroun',
The Dominion Of Australia {A Forecast}
© James Brunton Stephens
SHE is not yet, but he whose ear
Thrills to that finer atmosphere
How A Princess Was Wooed From Habitual Sadness
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
In days of old the King of Saxe
Had singular opinions,
A Belgian Christmas
© Madison Julius Cawein
The "happy year" of 1914
AN hour from dawn:
The snow sweeps on
As it swept with sleet last night:
The Happiest Man In England
© William Henry Ogilvie
The happiest man in England rose an hour before the dawn;
The stars were in the purple and the dew was on the lawn;
When The Rain Is On The Roof
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Lord, I am poor, and know not how to speak,
But since Thou art so great,
Thou needest not that I should speak to Thee well.
All angels speak unto Thee well.
The Departure. AN ELEGY.
© Henry King
VVere I to leave no more then a good friend,
Or but to hear the summons to my end,
(Which I have long'd for) I could then with ease
Attire my grief in words, and so appease
Lord Of Himself
© Sir Henry Wotton
How happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill.
The Staff and Scrip
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Who rules these lands? the Pilgrim said.
Stranger, Queen Blanchelys.
Folding the Flocks
© Beaumont and Fletcher
Shepherds all, and maidens fair,
Fold your flocks up; for the air
The Hall And The Wood
© William Morris
Twas in the water-dwindling tide
When July days were done,
Sir Rafe of Greenhowes, gan to ride
In the earliest of the sun.
A Christmas Letter From Australia
© Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen
T IS Christmas, and the North wind blows; t was two years yesterday
Since from the Lusitanias bows I looked oer Table Bay,
The Three Black Crows
© John Byrom
Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand,
One took the other briskly by the hand;
Hard Knocks
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'm not the man to say that failure's sweet,
Nor tell a chap to laugh when things go wrong;
