Poems begining by I
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I Saw Children Playing
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
No! they still are playing, chatting in a ring,
Eager voices seeking other games to know.
Lone I go protestinghear them laugh and sing,
Feeling not my absence, heeding not my woe.
In The Cup
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There is grief in the cup!
I saw a proud mother set wine on the board;
I'm Not Saying Anything Against Alexander
© Bertolt Brecht
Timur, I hear, took the trouble to conquer the earth.
I don't understand him.
With a bit of hard liquor you can forget the earth.
In Praise Of Contentment
© Eugene Field
I hate the common, vulgar herd!
Away they scamper when I "booh" 'em!
But pretty girls and nice young men
Observe a proper silence when
I chose to sing my lyrics to 'em.
Idyll VII. Harvest-Home
© Theocritus
He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I.
"I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells,
Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs,
Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus.
But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first:
Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well.
If I Were Old
© William Henry Ogilvie
If I were old, a broken man and blind,
and one should lead me to Mid-Eildon's crest,
In A Cuban Garden
© Sara Teasdale
HIBISCUS flowers are cups of fire,
(Love me, my lover, life will not stay)
The bright poinsettia shakes in the wind,
A scarlet leaf is blowing away.
Invocation To The Earth, February 1816
© William Wordsworth
I
"REST, rest, perturbed Earth!
O rest, thou doleful Mother of Mankind!"
A Spirit sang in tones more plaintive than the wind:
In Secret We Thirst
© Hermann Hesse
Dreams of beauty, youthful joy
like a breath in pure harmony
with the depth of your young surface
where sparkles the longing for the night
for blood and barbarity
In The Forum
© Alfred Austin
The last warm gleams of sunset fade
From cypress spire and stonepine dome,
And, in the twilight's deepening shade,
Lingering, I scan the wrecks of Rome.
Imr El Kais
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Weep, ah weep love's losing, love's with its dwelling--place
set where the hills divide Dakhúli and Háumali.
Túdiha and Mikrat! There the hearths--stones of her
stand where the South and North winds cross--weave the sand--furrows.
Inscription For A Stone Erected At The Sowing Of A Grove Of Oaks At Chillington, Anno 1790
© William Cowper
Other stones the era tell,
When some feeble mortal fell;
I stand here to date the birth
Of these hardy sons of earth.
Italy : 44. A Character
© Samuel Rogers
One of two things Montrioli may have,
My envy or compassion. Both he cannot.
Yet on he goes, numbering as miseries,
What least of all he would consent to lose,
Inebriety
© George Crabbe
The mighty spirit, and its power, which stains
The bloodless cheek, and vivifies the brains,
I Think Of Thee In Watches Of The Night
© Mathilde Blind
I think of thee in watches of the night,
I feel thee near;
Like mystic lamps consumed with too much light
Thine eyes burn clear.
"I Might-And I Might Not"
© Gamaliel Bradford
I might forget ambition and the hunger for success.
I might forget the passion to escape from nothingness.
I might forget the curious dreams of ecstasy that haunt
My fancy day and night. I might forget them. But I can't.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
I Shall Never Love the Snow Again
© Robert Seymour Bridges
I never shall love the snow again
Since Maurice died:
With corniced drift it blocked the lane,
And sheeted in a desolate plain
The country side.
In The Bower
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE gusty and passionate March hath died;
And now in the golden April-tide
There sits in the shade of her jasmine bower
A maid more fair than an April flower.
