Poems begining by I

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Imperfection

© Madison Julius Cawein

Not as the eye hath seen, shall we behold

Romance and beauty, when we've passed away;

I would go home againto rooms...

© Boris Pasternak

I would go home againto rooms
With sadness large at eventide,
Go in, take off my overcoat,
And in the light of streets outside

II: Our share of night to bear

© Emily Dickinson

Our share of night to bear
Our share of morning
Our blank in bliss to fill
Our blank in scorning

In Time of Sickness

© Robert Fuller Murray

Lost Youth, come back again!
Laugh at weariness and pain.
Come not in dreams, but come in truth,
Lost Youth.

"I stand alone at the foot " by William Kloefkorn: American Life in Poetry #147 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poe

Our earliest recollections are often imprinted in our memories because they were associated with some kind of stress. Here, in an untitled poem, the Nebraska State Poet, William Kloefkorn, brings back a difficult moment from many years before, and makes a late confession:

"I stand alone at the foot "

I lived on dread; to those who know

© Emily Dickinson

I lived on dread; to those who know
The stimulus there is
In danger, other impetus
Is numb and vital-less.

In Grandmamma's Kitchen

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

In grandmamma's kitchen, things got in a riot-
The cream in a pot on the shelf,
Where everything always seemed peaceful and quiet,
Got whipped, for I heard it myself.
And grandmamma said-such a queer thing to say,
That it made some things better to whip them that way.

I Did Not Know

© Margaret Widdemer

I DID not know that I should miss you,
So silver-soft your loving came,
There were no trumpets down the dawning,
There were no leaping tides of flame . . .

Italy : 22. Ginevra

© Samuel Rogers

If thou shouldst ever come by choice or chance
To Modena, where still religiously
Among her ancient trophies is preserved
Bologna's bucket (in its chain it hangs

Italy : 34. The Roman Pontiffs

© Samuel Rogers

Those ancient men, what were they, who achieved
A sway beyond the greatest conquerors;
Setting their feet upon the necks of kings,
And, through the world, subduing, chaining down

Indian Summer

© Katharine Tynan

This is the sign!
This flooding splendour, golden and hyaline,
This sun a golden sea on hill and plain, --
That God forgets not, that He walks with men.

Italy : 38. Foreign Travel

© Samuel Rogers

It was in a splenetic humour that I sat me down to my
scanty fare at Terracina ; and how long I should have
contemplated the lean thrushes in array before me, I
cannot say, if a cloud of smoke, that drew the tears

In The Month When Sings The Cuckoo

© Alfred Austin

But if now I slept, I should sleep to wake
To the sleepless pang and the dreamless ache,
To the wild babe blossom within my heart,
To the darkening terror and swelling smart,
To the searching look and the words apart,
And the hint of the tell-tale cuckoo.

If Only I Had Known

If only I had known, had realised,

I would not have looked out of the window

Indignation

Thou who loved Juvenal, and filed
His style so sharp to scar imperial brows,
And lent the lustre lightening
The gloom in Dante's murky verse that flows,--