Good poems
/ page 144 of 545 /Queen Mab: Part IV.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh,
Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear,
The Dowie Dens Of Yarrow
© Andrew Lang
Late at e'en, drinking the wine,
And ere they paid the lawing,
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing.
The Labyrinth
© Henry King
Life is a crooked Labyrinth, and we
Are daily lost in that Obliquity.
'Tis a perplexed circle, in whose round
Nothing but sorrows and new sins abound.
The Village Saturday Night
© Giacomo Leopardi
The dearest day of all the week
Is this, of hope and joy so full;
To-morrow, sad and dull,
The hours will bring, for each must in his thought
His customary task-work seek.
Sonnet VII
© George Santayana
I would I might forget that I am I,
And break the heavy chain that binds me fast,
To The Immortal Memory Of The Halibut, On Which I Dined This Day, Monday, April 26, 1784
© William Cowper
Where hast thou floated, in what seas pursued
Thy pastime? When wast thou an egg new spawned,
Lost in the immensity of ocean's waste?
Roar as they might, the overbearing winds
Ernestness
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The hurry of the times affects us so
In this swift rushing hour, we crowd and press
And thrust each other backward as we go,
And do not pause to lay sufficient stress
Elegy XV: A Tale of a Citizen and his Wife
© John Donne
I SING no harm, good sooth, to any wight,
To lord or fool, cuckold, beggar, or knight,
The Eyes
© Ezra Pound
Rest Master, for we be a-weary, weary
And would feel the fingers of the wind
Upon these lids that lie over us
Sodden and lead-heavy.
The Little Church
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little church of Long Ago, where as a boy I sat
With mother in the family pew and fumbled with my hat-
Ruth
© Henry Lawson
Are the fields of my fancy less fair through a window thats narrowed and barred?
Are the morning stars dimmed by the glare of the gas-light that flares in the yard?
No! And what does it matter to me if to-morrow I sail from the land?
I am free, as I never was free! I exult in my loneliness grand!
Moonlight On The Door
© William Barnes
A-swaÿèn slow, the poplar's head,
Above the slopèn thatch did ply,
A Second Letter From B. Sawin, Esq.
© James Russell Lowell
I spose you wonder ware I be; I can't tell, fer the soul o' me,
Exacly ware I be myself,--meanin' by thet the holl o' me.
Angelo
© William Watson
Then Angelo bethought him of his vow;
And stepping forward stood before the twain;
And from his girdle plucked a dagger forth;
And spake no word, but pierced his own heart through.
Illustration Of A Picture
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
"A SPANISH GIRL IN REVERIE,"
SHE twirled the string of golden beads,
The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto IV
© Edmund Spenser
To sinfull house of Pride, Duessa
guides the faithfull knight,
Where brothers death to wreak Sansjoy
doth chalenge him to fight.
Sonnett - III
© James Russell Lowell
I would not have this perfect love of ours
Grow from a single root, a single stem,
Jean De Breboeuf
© Virna Sheard
As Jean de Breboeuf told his rosary
At sundown in his cell, there came a call!--
Clear as a bell rung on a ship at sea,
Breaking the beauty of tranquillity--
Down from the heart of Heaven it seemed to fall: