Good poems
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The Child-World
© James Whitcomb Riley
There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows
Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy--
As when you were a boy.
92. Suppressed Stanzas of The Vision
© Robert Burns
The owner of a pleasant spot,
Near and sandy wilds, I last did note; 14
A heart too warm, a pulse too hot
At times, oerran:
But large in evry feature wrote,
Appeard the Man.
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
97. To John Kennedy, Dumfries House
© Robert Burns
But if, as Im informèd weel,
Ye hate as ills the very deil
The flinty heart that canna feel
Come, sir, heres to you!
Hae, theres my haun, I wiss you weel,
An gude be wi you.ROBT. BURNESS.MOSSGIEL, 3rd March, 1786.
Spenserian Stanza. Written At The Close Of Canto II, Book V, Of "The Faerie Queene"
© John Keats
In after-time, a sage of mickle lore
Yclep'd Typographus, the Giant took,
And did refit his limbs as heretofore,
And made him read in many a learned book,
451. Epitaph on the same
© Robert Burns
HERE lies, now a prey to insulting neglect,
What once was a butterfly, gay in lifes beam:
Want only of wisdom denied her respect,
Want only of goodness denied her esteem.
169. Address to Wm. Tytler, Esq., of Woodhouselee
© Robert Burns
REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart,
Of Stuart, a name once respected;
A name, which to love was the mark of a true heart,
But now tis despisd and neglected.
Yowzah
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Well it wasn't too very long ago you know some folks walked with a hi-dee-ho
And other folks walked around kind of low
Sayin' Yowzah and Sho nuff and Yassuh boss
It was ashes to ashes and dust to dust and they didn't believe in makin' a fuss
The Death
© Leon Gellert
Im hit. Its come at last, I feel a smart
Of needles in
My God
. Im hit again!
It was you, Atthis, who said
© Sappho
It was you, Atthis, who said
"Sappho, if you will not get
up and let us look at you
I shall never love you again!
91. The Vision
© Robert Burns
And wear thou thisshe solemn said,
And bound the holly round my head:
The polishd leaves and berries red
Did rustling play;
And, like a passing thought, she fled
In light away. [To Mrs. Stewart of Stair Burns presented a manuscript copy of the Vision. That copy embraces about twenty stanzas at the end of Duan First, which he cancelled when he came to print the price in his Kilmarnock volume. Seven of these he restored in printing his second edition, as noted on p. 174. The following are the verses which he left unpublished.]
Nothing Unusual
© Edgar Albert Guest
They lived together thirty years,
I Through storm and sunshine, weal and woe;
Old-Fashioned Letters
© Edgar Albert Guest
Old-fashioned letters! How good they were!
And nobody writes them now;
Finality
© Charles Harpur
A HEAVY and desolate sense of life
Is all the Past makes mineand still
A cold contempt of Fortunes strife,
Despite the dread
Of want of bread,
Numbs, clogs like ice, my weary will.
293. The Whistle: A Ballad
© Robert Burns
I SING of a Whistle, a Whistle of worth,
I sing of a Whistle, the pride of the North.
Was brought to the court of our good Scottish King,
And long with this Whistle all Scotland shall ring.
548. The Dean of Faculty: A new Ballad
© Robert Burns
DIRE was the hate at old Harlaw,
That Scot to Scot did carry;
And dire the discord Langside saw
For beauteous, hapless Mary:
39. Ballad on the American War
© Robert Burns
WHEN Guilford good our pilot stood
An did our hellim thraw, man,
Ae night, at tea, began a plea,
Within America, man:
5. Tragic FragmentAll villain as I am
© Robert Burns
ALL villain as I ama damn?d wretch,
A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting villain,
Still my heart melts at human wretchedness;
And with sincere but unavailing sighs
Jacqueline
© Samuel Rogers
'Twas Autumn; thro' Provence had ceased
The vintage, and the vintage-feast.
The sun had set behind the hill,
The moon was up, and all was still,
