Great poems
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Boston Hymn
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
The word of the Lord by night
To the watching Pilgrims came,
As they sat by the seaside,
And filled their hearts with flame.
One By One
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Little by little and one by one,
Out of the ether, were worlds created;
Star and planet and sea and sun,
All in the nebulous Nothing waited
Till the Nameless One Who has many a name
Called them to being and forth they came.
The Rarity Of Genius
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
While yet my lip was breathing youth's first breath,
I all too young to know their deepest spell,
The Wood Carver's Wife
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
JEAN MARCHANT, the wood-carver.
DORETTE, his wife.
LOUIS DE LOTBINIERE.
SHAGONAS, an Indian lad.
Practising The Anthem
© Ada Cambridge
A summer wind blows through the open porch,
And, 'neath the rustling eaves,
A summer light of moonrise, calm and pale,
Shines through a vale of leaves.
Canto 1: Narad
© Valmiki
To sainted Nárad, prince of those
Whose lore in words of wisdom flows.
Whose constant care and chief delight
Were Scripture and ascetic rite,
Macaulay's New Zealander.
© James Brunton Stephens
IT little profits that, an idle man,
On this worn arch, in sight of wasted halls,
The Crystal Palace
© William Makepeace Thackeray
With ganial foire
Thransfuse me loyre,
Ye sacred nympths of Pindus,
The whoile I sing
That wondthrous thing,
The Palace made o' windows!
Emancipation Day
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
The sixties brought a clash of arms
The mem'ry of it thrills and charms
While Negro slaves for freedom prayed,
Till Heaven bowed to give them aid.
Sonnet XCIV: Michelangelo 's Kiss
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Great Michelangelo, with age grown bleak
And uttermost labours, having once o'ersaid
The Wreck Of Rivermouth
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Rivermouth Rocks are fair to see,
By dawn or sunset shone across,
White Magic
© Muriel Stuart
Is it not a wonderful thing to be able to force an astonished plant to bear rare flowers which are foreign to it. . . and to obtain a marvelous result from sap which, left to itself, would have produced corollas without beauty? -VIRGIL.
I stood forlorn and pale,
The Fan : A Poem. Book II.
© John Gay
But see, fair Venus comes in all her state;
The wanton Loves and Graces round her wait;
With her loose robe officious Zephyrs play,
And strow with odoriferous flowers the way.
In her right hand she waves the fluttering fan,
And thus in melting sounds her speech began.
The Australian Muse
© Leon Gellert
Uplift thy lyre, and touch the tender strings;
But leave unsung the epics of thy land
Losses
© Heinrich Heine
Youth is leaving me; but daily
By new courage it's replaced ;
And my bold arm circles gaily
Many a young and slender waist.
Grant At Rest-- August 8, 1885
© James Whitcomb Riley
Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wide forest, and held no
path but as wild adventure led him... And he returned and came again to his
horse, and took off his saddle and his bridle, and let him pasture; and
unlaced his helm, and ungirdled his sword, and laid him down to sleep upon
his shield before the cross. --Age of Chivalary
Critics Nightwatch
© Gwen Harwood
Once more he tried, before he slept,
to rule his ranks of words. They broke
from his planned choir, lolled, slouched and kept
their tone, their pitch, their meaning crude;
huddled in cliches; when pursued
turned with mock elegance to croak
