Poems begining by I
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In A 'Bus.
© James Brunton Stephens
A QUARTER of a century agone,
Just such a face as this upon me shone,
In The Solitude
© John Hall Wheelock
You do not love me, and at last I know
How far lies the lost land for which I pine-
But in the lonely passion of my mood
I feel your pulses toward my pulses flow,
And the dear blood that, through your hand, to mine,
Whispers her pity in the solitude.
I Think Continually
© Stephen Spender
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
In Praise Of Truth And Simplicity In Song
© Eugene Field
Oh, for the honest, blithesome times
Of bosky Sherwood long ago,
I Loved
© Vahan Tekeyan
I loved; yet not even one
Of those I loved ever knew
How dearly, how well I loved...
Who knows how to read the heart?
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 82
© Alfred Tennyson
For this alone on Death I wreak
The wrath that garners in my heart;
He put our lives so far apart
We cannot hear each other speak.
In Autumn
© Madison Julius Cawein
Sunflowers wither and lilies die,
Poppies are pods of seeds;
The first red leaves on the pathway lie,
Like blood of a heart that bleeds.
In Hyde Park.
© Arthur Henry Adams
The white mist walks between the trees
In silver gown;
Her mystic floating draperies
The branches drown;
In The Wood
© Madison Julius Cawein
The waterfall, deep in the wood,
Talked drowsily with solitude,
A soft, insistent sound of foam,
That filled with sleep the forest's dome,
Where, like some dream of dusk, she stood
Accentuating solitude.
In India's Dreamy Land
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In India's land one listens aghast
To the people who scream and bawl;
For each caste yells at a lower caste,
And the Britisher yells at them all.
In My Sky At Twilight
© Pablo Neruda
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
Indiana
© James Whitcomb Riley
Our Land-- our Home-- the common home indeed
Of soil-born children and adopted ones--
In Egypt.
© Robert Crawford
Speak softly, wake her not! We all must die.
This is a sleep that wraps her in secure
From Caesar's luck. Yet is that veiny bosom
Warm where now love's despair wrought life's undoing,
In The Hills Of Shiloh
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Have you seen Amanda Blaine in the hills of Shiloh
Wandering through the morning rain through the hills of Shiloh
Have you seen her at her door, listening for the cannon's roar
And a man who went to war from the hills of Shiloh
I Have Been Pierced By The Arrow Of Love
© Bulleh Shah
I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do ?
In After Days
© George Frederick Cameron
I WILL accomplish that and this,
And make myself a thorn to Things
Lords, councillors and tyrant kings
Who sit upon their thrones and kiss
