Poems begining by I
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In everything I seek to grasp...
© Boris Pasternak
In everything I seek to grasp
The fundamental:
The daily choice, the daily task,
The sentimental.
Improvisations: Light And Snow: 12
© Conrad Aiken
How many times have we been interrupted
Just as I was about to make up a story for you!
Imagination
© Gamaliel Bradford
Imagination plays me most intolerable tricks.
To enumerate them all would be unbearably prolix.
Just a trifle bids them gather and a trifle bids them go.
And they tease me and torment me more than anyone can know.
Italy : 33. The Campagna Of Rome
© Samuel Rogers
Have none appeared as tillers of the ground,
None since They went -- as though it still were theirs,
And they might come and claim their own again?
Was the last plough a Roman's?
In Fisherrow
© William Ernest Henley
A hard north-easter fifty winters long
Has bronzed and shrivelled sere her face and neck;
In Due Observance Of An Ancient Rite
© William Wordsworth
IN due observance of an ancient rite,
The rude Biscayans, when their children lie
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 2
© Alfred Tennyson
And gazing on thee, sullen tree,
Sick for thy stubborn hardihood,
I seem to fail from out my blood
And grow incorporate into thee.
In Memoriam
© William Lisle Bowles
How blessed with thee the path could I have trod
Of quiet life, above cold want's hard fate,
In A Glass Of Water before Retiring
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Now the day
Burns away.
Most austere
Night is here
Time for sleep.
Il Bacio
© Paul Verlaine
Kiss! Hollyhock in Love's luxuriant close!
Brisk music played on pearly little keys,
In tempo with the witching melodies
Love in the ardent heart repeating goes.
In A Garden
© Madison Julius Cawein
The pink rose drops its petals on
The moonlit lawn, the moonlit lawn;
In A Northern Wood
© Katharine Lee Bates
FRAGRANT are the cedar-boughs stretching green and level,
Feasting-halls where waxwings flit at their spicy revel,
Influence Of Time on Grief
© William Lisle Bowles
O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay
Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence,
I Cant Touch The Sun
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
No I can't touch the clouds for you I've never reached the sun for you
I've never done the things that you need done for you
I've stretched as high as I can reach I guess I'm not the one for you
Cause I can't touch the clouds or reach the sun for you
No I can't reach the clouds or touch the sun
Immorality
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Have you heard, my friend, the slander that the Negro has to face?
Immorality, the grossest, has been charged up to his race.
Listen, listen to my story, as I now proceed to tell
Of conditions in the Southland, where the mass of Negroes dwell.
