Good poems
/ page 34 of 545 /
Sonnet 92: Be Your Words Made
© Sir Philip Sidney
Be your words made, good sir, of Indian ware,
That you allow me them by so small rate?
To A Friend Lost (Tom Taylor)
© George Meredith
When I remember, friend, whom lost I call,
Because a man beloved is taken hence,
From 'She Stoops to Conquer' A Song
© Oliver Goldsmith
Let school-masters puzzle their brain,
With grammar, and nonsense, and learning;
Cross-Roads
© Mathilde Blind
The rain beat in our faces,
And shrill the wild airs grew;
The long-maned clouds in races
Coursed o'er heaven's windy blue.
Sonnet XII. On The Same. (Being On The Detraction)
© John Milton
I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs
By the known rules of antient libertie,
When strait a barbarous noise environs me
Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs.
The Demon Of The Study
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Brownie sits in the Scotchman's room,
And eats his meat and drinks his ale,
And beats the maid with her unused broom,
And the lazy lout with his idle flail;
But he sweeps the floor and threshes the corn,
And hies him away ere the break of dawn.
Nine stages towards Knowing
© Benjamin Jonson
Abstracted in art,
in architecture,
in scholars detail;
A Father To His Son
© Carl Sandburg
A father sees his son nearing manhood.
What shall he tell that son?
Tale IX
© George Crabbe
course,"
Replied the Youth; "but has it power to force?
Unless it forces, call it as you will,
It is but wish, and proneness to the ill."
"Art thou not tempted?"--"Do I fall?" said
A Meeting Of The Birds
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OF a thousand queer meetings, both great, sir, and small
The bird-party I sing of seemed oddest of all!
How they come to assemble--a multiform show--
From all parts of the earth, is--well--more than I know.
Ben Allah Achmet, or, the Fatal Tum
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I once did know a Turkish man
Whom I upon a two-pair-back met,
His name it was EFFENDI KHAN
BACKSHEESH PASHA BEN ALLAH ACHMET.
Little Girls Must Not Fret
© Ann Taylor
WHAT is it that makes little Emily cry?
Come then, let mamma wipe the tear from her eye:
Therelay down your head on my bosomthat's right,
And now tell mamma what's the matter to-night.
The Progress Of The Rose
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The days of old, the good old days,
Whose misty memories haunt us still,
Demand alike our blame and praise,
And claim their shares of good and ill.
Summum Bonum
© Louise Imogen Guiney
Thanks to His love let earth and man dispense
In smoke of worship when the heart is stillest,
A praying more than prayer: "Great good have I,
Till it be greater good to lay it by;
Nor can I lose peace, power, permanence,
For these smile on me from the thing Thou willest!"
The Beasts In The Tower
© Charles Lamb
Within the precincts of this yard,
Each in his narrow confines barred,
Unkindnesse
© George Herbert
Lord, make me coy and tender to offend:
In friendship, first I think, if that agree,
Which I intend,
Unto my friends intent and end.
I would not use a friend, as I use Thee.
Vaunting Oak
© John Crowe Ransom
He is a tower unleaning. But how hell break
If Heaven assault him with full wind and sleet,
And what uproar tall trees concumbent make!
A Song Of Swords
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
In the place called Swords on the Irish road
It is told for a new renown
How we held the horns of the cattle, and how
We will hold the horns of the devils now
Ere the lord of hell with the horn on his brow
Is crowned in Dublin town.
Old Cambridge
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AND can it be you've found a place
Within this consecrated space,
