Great poems
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The Shepherd's Dream: Or, Fairies' Masquerade
© Robert Bloomfield
Scorch'd by the shadeless sun on Indian plains,
Mellow'd by age, by wants, and toils, and pains,
Those toils still lengthen'd when he reach'd that shore
Where Spain's bright mountains heard the cannons roar,
A pension'd veteran, doom'd no more to roam,
With glowing heart thus sung the joys of home.
Le Monocle de Mon Oncle
© Wallace Stevens
Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds,
O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon,
Italy : 2. Meillerie
© Samuel Rogers
These grey majestic cliffs that tower to heaven,
These glimmering glades and open chestnut-groves,
That echo to the heifer's wandering bell,
Or woodman's axe, or steers-man's song beneath,
If Only I Were Santa Claus
© Edgar Albert Guest
If only I were Santa Claus and you were still a boy,
I'd find the chimney to your heart and fill it full of joy ;
Horace, Epist. I, VII Imitation Of Horace To Lord Oxford
© Jonathan Swift
Harley, the nation's great support,
Returning home one day from court,
His mind with public cares possest,
All Europe's business in his breast,
Ye Agents
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
These agent men! these agent men!
We hear the dreaded step again,
We see a stranger at the door;
And brace ourselves for war once more.
He bows and smiles. "Walk in," we say,
Sonnet XX. The Lovers Sonnet. Midnight.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
I WAITED through the night, while summer blew
The breath of roses through my darkened room.
The whispering breeze just stirred the leafy gloom
Beyond the window. On the lawn the dew
The Borough. Letter XIII: The Alms-House And Trustees
© George Crabbe
feel.
Three seats were vacant while Sir Denys reign'd,
And three such favourites their admission gain'd;
These let us view, still more to understand
The moral feelings of Sir Denys Brand.
An Hymne Of Heavenly Beautie
© Edmund Spenser
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
And glorious images in heaven wrought,
Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet delights
Swimming With A Hundred Year Old Snapping Turtle by Freya Manfred: American Life in Poetry #113 Ted
© Ted Kooser
American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Reprinted by permission of Freya Manfred, whose most recent book is My Only Home, 2003, from Red Dragonfly Press. Poem copyright © 2006 by Freya Manfred. Introduction copyright © 2009 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.
The Shapes of Death
© Stephen Spender
Shapes of death haunt life,
Neurosis eclipsing each in special shadow:
Unrequited love not solving
Ones need to become anothers body
A Translation From Petrarch
© John Millington Synge
(He is Jealous of the Heavens and the Earth)
What a grudge I am bearing the earth that has its arms about her, and is holding that face away from me, where I was finding peace from great sadness.
The Charge of the Heavy Brigade at Balaclava
© Alfred Tennyson
The charge of the gallant three hundred, the Heavy Brigade!
Down the hill, down the hill, thousands of Russians,
Thousands of horsemen, drew to the valleyand stayd;
For Scarlett and Scarletts three hundred were riding by
Re an interuption to Orlando Innamorato
© Matteo Maria Boiardo
But while I sing, mine eyes, great God! behold
A flaming fire light all the Italian sky,
Brought by these French, who, with their myriads bold,
Come to lay waste, I know not where or why.
Therefore, at present, I must
