Good poems
/ page 47 of 545 /From The Window
© Heinrich Heine
Well, this is awful weather;
Storming with rain and snow!
I sit at the window, staring
Into the darkness below.
The Open Fire
© Edgar Albert Guest
There in the flame of the open grate,
All that is good in the past I see:
Filipinos, Remember Us
© Edgar Lee Masters
You, if it fall to you to take
From us the lamp that Athens gave,
Fill it with mercy for our sake,
And light us gently to the grave.
Our Banker
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
OLD TIME, in whose bank we deposit our notes,
Is a miser who always wants guineas for groats;
He keeps all his customers still in arrears
By lending them minutes and charging them years.
The Noble Old Elm
© James Whitcomb Riley
O big old tree, so tall an' fine,
Where all us childern swings an' plays,
The Thaw
© William Henry Ogilvie
Have lost the white burden that weighted them
down.
The silence that came with the fall of the frost
Oh! He's Nothing But A Soldier
© Anonymous
"Oh! he's nothing but a soldier,"
But he's coming here tonight,
An Epistle To An Editor
© Henry Austin Dobson
"We, that are very old" (the phrase
Is STEELE'S, not mine!), in former days,
Have seen so many "new Reviews"
Arise, arraign, absolve, abuse;--
Proclaim their mission to the top
(Where there's still room!), then slowly drop,
The Climber
© Virna Sheard
He stood alone on Fame's high mountain top,
His hands at rest, his forehead bound with bay;
And yet he watched with eyes unsatisfied
The downward winding way.
Brothers, And A Sermon
© Jean Ingelow
“What, chorus! are you dumb? you should have cried,
‘So good comes out of evil;’” and with that,
As if all pauses it was natural
To seize for songs, his voice broke out again:
The Foolish Traveller; Or, A Good Inn Is A Bad Home
© Hannah More
There was a Prince of high degree,
As great and good as Prince could be;
Much power and wealth were in his hand,
With Lands and Lordships at command.
Spoken of Several Philosophers
© George MacDonald
I pray you, all ye men who put your trust
In moulds and systems and well-tackled gear,
Meditations Upon A Candle
© John Bunyan
Man's like a candle in a candlestick,
Made up of tallow and a little wick;
Consalvo
© Giacomo Leopardi
Approaching now the end of his abode
On earth, Consalvo lay; complaining once,
The Log Jam
© William Henry Drummond
Dere 'a s beeg jam up de reever, w'ere rapide is runnin' fas',
An' de log we cut las' winter is takin' it all de room;
My Thanks,
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'T is said that in the Holy Land
The angels of the place have blessed
The pilgrim's bed of desert sand,
Like Jacob's stone of rest.
A Song in Time of Order. 1852
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
PUSH hard across the sand,
For the salt wind gathers breath;
Shoulder and wrist and hand,
Push hard as the push of death.