Poems begining by R

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62

Rowers Chant

© Thomas Sturge Moore

Row till the land dip 'neath
The sea from view.
Row till a land peep up,
A home for you.

Ringlets

© John Kenyon

Ringlets are net by Cupid spread,

And such will Abra's prove to thee.

Real Swimming

© Edgar Albert Guest

I saw him in the distance, as the train went speeding by,

A shivery little fellow standing in the sun to dry.

Raisin Pie

© Edgar Albert Guest

There's a heap of pent-up goodness

in the yellow bantam corn,

Rizpah

© Henry Kendall

SAID one who led the spears of swarthy Gad,

To Jesses mighty son: My Lord, O King,

Remonstrance.

© Sidney Lanier

"Opinion, let me alone: I am not thine.

Prim Creed, with categoric point, forbear

Twenty abreast down the golden street, ten thousand riders marched;
Bow-legged boys in their swinging chaps, all clumsily keeping time;
And the Angel Host to the lone, last ghost their delicate eyebrows arched
As the swaggering sons of the open range drew up to the Throne Sublime.

Return

© Kostas Karyotakis

In your current is the laughter of the gods,
Saronica immortal, the blessing of our ship,
like your deep calm, and just as deep the tempest
we'd have heard here.

Regardin' Terry Hut

© James Whitcomb Riley

Sence I tuk holt o' Gibbses' Churn

And be'n a-handlin' the concern,

Remembered Music

© James Russell Lowell

Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast
Of bisons the far prairie shaking,
The notes crowd heavily and fast
As surfs, one plunging while the last
Draws seaward from its foamy breaking.

Rokeby: Canto III.

© Sir Walter Scott

CHORUS.
"O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green;
I'd rather rove with Edmund there,
Than reign our English queen."

Resurrection Song.

© Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Thread the nerves through the right holes;

Get out of my bones, you wormy souls.

Rain After Drought

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

All night the small feet of the rain

Within the garden ran,

Revisited

The roll of drums and the bugle's wailing
Vex the air of our vales-no more;
The spear is beaten to hooks of pruning,
The share is the sword the soldier wore!

Rubaiyat 26

One with such beauty none will make.
When her garments off we take
You can see her heart in her fragile breast,
Like a hard rock in a clear lake.

Rome

A high and naked square, a lonely palm;

Columns thrown down, a high and lonely tower;

Revisited

It was beneath a waning moon when all the woods were sear,
And winds made eddies of the leaves that whispered far and near,
I met her on the old mill-bridge we parted at last year.