Poems begining by M
/ page 36 of 130 /Miss Pixie
© Lloyd Roberts
Did you ever meet Miss Pixie of the Spruces,
Did you ever glimpse her mocking elfin face,
Did you ever hear her calling while the whip-poor-wills were calling,
And slipped your pack and taken up the chase?
Memories
© Leon Gellert
I see wild waves that break, and breaking-run;
And the wild sea-birds wheeling round the ships;
But at the dawn, the coming of the sun,
I see your red, red lips.
Mr. Finney's Turnip
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Mr. Finney had a turnip,
And it grew, and it grew,
And it grew behind the barn,
And the turnip did no harm.
Manos Karastefanes
© James Merrill
Death took my father.
The same year (I was twelve)
Thanási's mother taught me
Heaven and hell.
Mr. Edwards and the Spider
© Robert Lowell
I saw the spiders marching through the air,
Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day
Myrtilla's Third Degree
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Before I trust my Fate to thee,
Or place my hand in thine--
(This is an easy parody,
Without a change of line.)
Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul to-night for me.
Memorials of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 I. Departure From The Vale Of Grasmere, August 1803
© William Wordsworth
THE gentlest Shade that walked Elysian plains
Might sometimes covet dissoluble chains;
Even for the tenants of the zone that lies
Beyond the stars, celestial Paradise,
Message From Abroad
© Allen Tate
Paris, November 1929
Their faces are bony and sharp but very red, although
their ancestors nearly two hundred years have dwelt
by the miasmal banks of tidewaters where malarial fever
makes men gaunt and dosing with quinine shakes them
as with a palsy. Traveller to America (1799).
Marmion: Introduction to Canto I
© Sir Walter Scott
November's sky is chill and drear,
November's leaf is red and sear:
Memory
© George Moses Horton
Sweet memory, like a pleasing dream,
Still lends a dull and feeble ray;
For ages with her vestige teems,
When beauty's trace is worn away.
Madam Gabrina, Or the Ill-favourd Choice
© Henry King
Con mala Muger el remedio
Mucha Tierra por el medio.
I have oft wondred why thou didst elect
Thy Mistress of a stuff none could affect,
Mother, I Cannot Mind My Wheel
© Sappho
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry;
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I!
Mr. Hosea Biglow's Speech In March Meeting
© James Russell Lowell
(N.B. Reporters gin'lly git a hint
To make dull orjunces seem 'live in print,
An', ez I hev t' report myself, I vum,
I'll put th' applauses where they'd _ough' to_ come!)
Miracles
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Sick of myself and all that keeps the light
Of the wide heavens away from me and mine,
My Neighbors Garden
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The serpent 'neath his apples
Will tempt me to my fall,
And thenI'll steal my neighbour's fruit
Across the garden wall.
Morning
© Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
You're unhappy, sick at heart:
Oh, I know it-here such sickness isn't rare.
Nature can but mirror
The surrounding poverty.
Milton (Alcaics)
© Alfred Tennyson
O mighty-mouth'd inventor of harmonies,
O skill'd to sing of Time or Eternity,