Home poems
/ page 296 of 465 /Breitmann In Holland. Amsterdam.
© Charles Godfrey Leland
TO Amsterd-m came Breitmann
All in de Kermes tide;
Yonge Maegden allegader
Filled de straat on afery side.
To -----
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Fair Nature's priestesses! to whom,
In hieroglyph of bud and bloom,
Her mysteries are told;
Who, wise in lore of wood and mead,
The seasons' pictured scrolls can read,
In lessons manifold!
A Dream Of Sunshine
© Eugene Field
I'm weary of this weather and I hanker for the ways
Which people read of in the psalms and preachers paraphrase--
Amours De Voyage, Canto I
© Arthur Hugh Clough
I am to tell you, you say, what I think of our last new acquaintance.
Well, then, I think that George has a very fair right to be jealous.
I do not like him much, though I do not dislike being with him.
He is what people call, I suppose, a superior man, and
Certainly seems so to me; but I think he is terribly selfish.
The Mound By The Lake
© Herman Melville
The grass shall never forget this grave.
When homeward footing it in the sun
Come After Jinny
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
He'll be comin' down the road at the break of day
His head thrown back and his guns tied low
He's comin' after Jinny wants to take her away but I ain't gonna let her go
Landing on the Moon
© May Swenson
When in the mask of night there shone that cut,
we were riddled. A probe reached down
and stroked some nerve in us,
as if the glint from a wizard's eye, of silver,
slanted out of the mask of the unknown-
pit of riddles, the scratch-marked sky.
Satisfied With Life
© Edgar Albert Guest
I have known the green trees and the skies overhead
And the blossoms of spring and the fragrance they shed;
I have known the blue sea, and the mountains afar
And the song of the pines and the light of a star;
And should I pass now, I could say with a smile
That my pilgrimage here has been well worth my while.
Footsteps in the Street
© Robert Fuller Murray
Oh, will the footsteps never be done?
The insolent feet
Thronging the street,
Forsaken now of the only one.
Love Nursed By Solitude. By W. I. Thomson, Edinburgh
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
AY, surely it is here that Love should come,
And find, (if he may find on earth), a home;
Here cast off all the sorrow and the shame
That cling like shadows to his very name.
Yvonne of Brittany
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Custer: Book Third
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Were every red man slaughtered in a day,
Still would that sacrifice but poorly pay
For one insulted woman captive's woes.
Spartan Mothers
© Alfred Austin
``One more embrace! Then, o'er the main,
And nobly play the soldier's part!''
Vigil
© Robert Laurence Binyon
In the hollow of pale night upon the moor
The silence blows a perfume: O but hark!
A sound is in the bosom of the dark,
Breathed like a secret from the glimmering shore;
Love and War
© Ovid
Lovers all are soldiers, and Cupid has his campaigns:
I tell you, Atticus, lovers all are soldiers.
Sweet are His ways who rules above
© Jean Ingelow
Sweet are His ways who rules above,
He gives from wrath a sheltering place;
But covert none is found from grace,
Man shall not hide himself from love.
A Thing Of Beauty
© John Keats
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Don Juan: Canto The Tenth
© George Gordon Byron
When Newton saw an apple fall, he found
In that slight startle from his contemplation--