Poems begining by M
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My Dream
© John Greenleaf Whittier
In my dream, methought I trod,
Yesternight, a mountain road;
Narrow as Al Sirat's span,
High as eagle's flight, it ran.
More Sonnets At Christmas II
© Allen Tate
Then hang this picture for a calendar,
As sheep for goat, and pray most fixedly
For the cold martial progress of your star,
With thoughts of commerce and society,
Well-milked Chinese, Negroes who cannot sing,
The Huns gelded and feeding in a ring.
My Name Is Jacob
© John Newton
Nay, I cannot let Thee go,
Till a blessing thou bestow;
Do not turn away thy face,
Mine's an urgent pressing case.
Mr. Clays Reception At Raleigh, April, 1844
© George Moses Horton
Salute the august train! a scene so grand,
With every tuneful band;
The mighty brave,
His country bound to save,
Manna Hoarded
© John Newton
The manna favored Israel's meat,
Was gathered day by day;
When all the host was served, the heat
Melted the rest away.
Marriage Morn.
© Robert Crawford
Fades the moonlight on the sea,
And the dawn is coming in
What will this day bring for me,
This of all days, Evelyn?
Matthew
© William Wordsworth
IF Nature, for a favourite child,
In thee hath tempered so her clay,
That every hour thy heart runs wild,
Yet never once doth go astray,
Message
© Sara Teasdale
I heard a cry in the night,
A thousand miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
My name, my name!
March Mournful and Vertical
© Kostas Karyotakis
I stare at the ceiling's plasterwork.
I'm drawn into the dance of the meanders.
My happiness, I'm thinking, would
lie in height.
Motes In The Sunbeams
© Charles Lamb
The motes up and down in the sun
Ever restlessly moving we see;
Whereas the great mountains stand still,
Unless terrible earthquakes there be.
Martha And Mary
© John Newton
Martha her love and joy expressed
By care to entertain her guest;
While Mary sat to hear her Lord,
And could not bear to lose a word.
My Room
© George MacDonald
But when, sinking slow, the sun
Leaves the glowing curtain dun,
I, of prophet-insight reft,
Shall be dull and dreamless left;
I must hasten proof on proof,
Weaving in the warp my woof!
May-Day, 1837
© Caroline Norton
I.
MAY-DAY is come!--While yet the unwillng Spring
Checks with capricious frown the opening year,
Onward, where bleak winds have been whispering,
Maui Victor
© Johannes Carl Andersen
Unhewn in quarry lay the Parian stone,
Ere hands, god-guided, of Praxiteles
My God, Thy Suppliant Hear
© George Sandys
My God, thy suppliant hear:
Afford a gentle ear:
For I am comfortless,
And labour in distress.
My desk is not so wide that I might lean
© Boris Pasternak
My desk is not so wide that I might lean
Against the edge and reach out past the shell
Of board and glass, beyond the isthmus in
The endless miles of my scraped out farewell.
