Poems begining by I

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Before my light goes out for ever if God should give me a choice of
graces,
I would not reck of length of days, nor crave for things to be;
But cry: "One day of the great lost days, one face of all the faces,
Grant me to see and touch once more and nothing more to see.

It Is The Sinners' Dust-Tongued Bell

© Dylan Thomas

It is the sinners' dust-tongued bell claps me to churches
When, with his torch and hourglass, like a sulpher priest,
His beast heel cleft in a sandal,
Time marks a black aisle kindle from the brand of ashes,
Grief with dishevelled hands tear out the altar ghost
And a firewind kill the candle.

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 15.

© Alfred Tennyson

That makes the barren branches loud;
And but for fear it is not so,
The wild unrest that lives in woe
Would dote and pore on yonder cloud

Idyll XI. The Giant's Wooing

© Theocritus

"The blame's my mother's; she is false to me;
Spake thee ne'er yet one sweet word for my sake,
Though day by day she sees me pine and pine.
I'll feign strange throbbings in my head and feet
To anguish her--as I am anguished now."

Impromptu (III)

© Frances Anne Kemble

We should each other's crosses help to bear,
Yet I, dear friend, lay this upon your breast:
Would Heaven, indulgent, hear my heartfelt prayer,
No heavier one should ever on it rest.

In Summer's Heat

© Ovid

In summer's heat and mid-time of the day,

To rest my limbs upon a bed I lay,

Impromptu to Miss Utrecia Smith

© William Shenstone

Whilst round in wild rotations hurl'd,
These glittering forms I view,
Methinks the busy restless world
Is pictured in a few.

In Sutton Woods

© Alfred Austin

There-peace once more; the restless roar
Of troubled cities dies away.
``Welcome to our broad shade once more,''
The dear old woodlands seem to say.

I Am Raferty

© Douglas Hyde

I AM Raferty the Poet

Full of hope and love,

In Praise Of A Ruler Of Ts'in

© Confucius

What trees grow on the Chung-nan hill?
The white fir and the plum.
In fur of fox, 'neath 'broidered robe,
Thither our prince is come.
His face glows with vermilion hue.
O may he prove a ruler true!

In Spain: Drinking Song

© Emily Lawless

MANY are praised, and some are fair,

But the fairest of all is She,

In Memoriam

© Emma Lazarus

O FRIEND who passed away while flowers died,
Now that the land bursts into bloom again,
With vivid blossoms o'er the landscape wide,
Purple and white 'mongst, grasses golden-eyed,
In beauteous resurrection o'er the plain,

Il Janitoro

© George Ade

Mrs. T.:
What does it mean, what does it mean?
This smell of smoke may indicate
That we'll be burned oh-h-h, awful fate!

In Time Of War

© John Jay Chapman

SORROW, that watches while the body sleeps,

Parted the curtains of the cruel dawn

Inflexible As Fate

When for one brief dark hour Rome's virile sway

Felt the sharp shock of Cannae's adverse day,

In The Half-Way House

I

At twenty we fancied the blest Middle Ages

It Was A Famous Victory

It was a summer evening;
Old Kaspar was at home,
Sitting before his cottage door-
Like in the Southey pome-
And near him, with a magazine,
Idled his grandchild, Geraldine.

In A Restaurant

The darkened street was muffled with the snow,
The falling flakes had made your shoulders white,
And when we found a shelter from the night
Its glamor fell upon us like a blow.