Good poems
/ page 178 of 545 /
Deborah
© Thomas Parnell
O King subdu'd! O Woman born to fame!
O Wake my fancy for the glorious theme,
O wake my fancy with the sense of praise,
O wake with warblings of triumphant lays.
The Land you rise in sultry suns invade,
But where you rise to sing you'le find a shade.
My Daughter
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THOU hast thy mother's eyes, my child--
Her deep dark eyes: the undefiled
Sweetness which breathes around her mouth,
A perfect rosebud of the south,
The Beech Tree
© Edith Nesbit
MY beautiful beech, your smooth grey coat is trimmed
With letters. Once, each stood for all things dear
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - November
© George MacDonald
1.
THOU art of this world, Christ. Thou know'st it all;
Lines On And From "Bartlett's Familiar Quotations"
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Of making many books there is no end-
So Sancho Panza said, and so say I.
Thou wert my guide, philosopher and friend
When only one is shining in the sky.
An Autumn Night
© Madison Julius Cawein
Some things are good on _Autumn_ nights,
When with the storm the forest fights,
About The Nightingale
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
In stale blank verse a subject stale
I send per post my Nightingale;
And like an honest bard, dear Wordsworth,
You'll tell me what you think, my Bird's worth.
George Mullen's Confession
© James Whitcomb Riley
For the sake of guilty conscience, and the heart that ticks the
time
Of the clockworks of my nature, I desire to say that I'm
A weak and sinful creature, as regards my daily walk
The last five years and better. It ain't worth while to talk--
The Virtuoso: In Imitation of Spenser's Style And Stanza
© Mark Akenside
--- Videmus
Nugari solitos.
-Persius
Temple
© John Donne
With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe,
Joseph, turn back ; see where your child doth sit,
Tale X
© George Crabbe
It is the Soul that sees: the outward eyes
Present the object, but the Mind descries;
And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff'rence
Good Friday
© John Keble
Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawned on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power
For comfort than an angel's mirth?
That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn
Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn?
An Alphabet Zoo
© Carolyn Wells
A was an apt Alligator,
Who wanted to be a head-waiter;
He said, "I opine
In that field I could shine,
Because I am such a good skater."
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The Second =Third Dialogue=.
© Giordano Bruno
LIB. Reclining in the shade of a cypress-tree, the enthusiast finding
his mind free from other thoughts, it happened that the heart and the
eyes spoke together as if they were animals and substances of different
intellects and senses, and they made lament of that which was the
beginning of his torment and which consumed his soul.
We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye
© Anna Akhmatova
We don't know how to say good-bye
We wander on, shoulder by shoulder.
Already the sun is going down.
You're moody, I am your shadow.
That Great Waiting Silence
© Henry Lawson
WHERE shall we go for prophecy? Where shall we go for proof?
The holiday street is crowded, pavement, window and roof;
Band and banner pass by us, and the old tunes rise and fall
But that great waiting silence is on the people all!
Songs of the Pixies
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
Whom the untaught Shepherds call
Pixies in their madrigal,
Fancy's children, here we dwell:
