Good poems
/ page 256 of 545 /
Sonnet LXX
© William Shakespeare
That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
Sonnet LXVI
© William Shakespeare
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
The American Forest Girl
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
They loos'd the bonds that held their captive's breath;
From his pale lips they took the cup of death;
They quench'd the brand beneath the cypress tree;
"Away," they cried, "young stranger, thou art free!"
At the Wedding
© Edgar Albert Guest
There was weepin' by the women that the crowd could plainly see,
An' old William's throat was chokin' an' his eyes were watery,
An' he couldn't hardly answer when the parson made him say
Who it was on that occasion was to give the girl away.
The Huskers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
IT was late in mild October, and the long autumnal rain
Had left the summer harvest-fields all green with grass again;
The first sharp frosts had fallen, leaving all the woodlands gay
With the hues of summer's rainbow, or the meadow flowers of May.
The Old Keg of Rum
© Anonymous
CHORUS
Oh! the Old Keg of Rum! the Old Keg of Rum!
Remember old Jack Palmer
And the Old Keg of Rum.
Artegal And Elidure
© William Wordsworth
WHERE be the temples which, in Britain's Isle,
For his paternal Gods, the Trojan raised?
Sonnet CXXXI
© William Shakespeare
Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
Fragment IX
© James Macpherson
Conar was mighty in war. Caul
was the friend of strangers. His gates
were open to all; midnight darkened
not on his barred door. Both lived upon
the sons of the mountains. Their bow
was the support of the poor.
The Ghost - Book II
© Charles Churchill
A sacred standard rule we find,
By poets held time out of mind,
The Shepherd's Calendar - September
© John Clare
Harvest awakes the morning still
And toils rude groups the valleys fill
The Epic Of The Lion
© Victor Marie Hugo
A Lion in his jaws caught up a child--
Not harming it--and to the woodland, wild
Sonnet CXXIV
© William Shakespeare
If my dear love were but the child of state,
It might for Fortune's bastard be unfather'd'
As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate,
Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather'd.
Sonnet CXXI
© William Shakespeare
'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd,
When not to be receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost which is so deem'd
Not by our feeling but by others' seeing:
Sonnet CXVIII
© William Shakespeare
Like as, to make our appetites more keen,
With eager compounds we our palate urge,
As, to prevent our maladies unseen,
We sicken to shun sickness when we purge,
On Dante's Monument, 1818
© Giacomo Leopardi
Though all the nations now
Peace gathers under her white wings,
Sonnet CXLIV
© William Shakespeare
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill.
Sonnet CXII
© William Shakespeare
Your love and pity doth the impression fill
Which vulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?
