Poems begining by W
/ page 17 of 113 /
When She Cries
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
No one knows my lady when she's lonely
No one sees the fantasies and fears my lady hides
There are those who've shared her love and laughter
But no one hears my lady when she cries
but me
Words From The Wind
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I called to the wind of the Winter,
As he sped like a steed on his way,
"Oh! rest for awhile on thy journey,
And answer these questions, I pray.
What A Baby Costs
© Edgar Albert Guest
"How much do babies cost?" said he
The other night upon my knee;
We Two-How Long We Were Fool'd
© Walt Whitman
WE two-how long we were fool'd!
Now transmuted, we swiftly escape, as Nature escapes;
What Weeping Face
© Walt Whitman
WHAT weeping face is that looking from the window?
Why does it stream those sorrowful tears?
Is it for some burial place, vast and dry?
Is it to wet the soil of graves?
Well do I know myself
© Saigyo
Well do I know myself, so
Your coldness
I did not think to blame, yet
My bitterness has
Soaked my sleeves, it seems
Witchery Knows!
© William Henry Ogilvie
Witchery knows what it means
When the oats and the barley, the wheat and the beans,
Weariness
© Arthur Symons
I
There are grey hours when I drink of indifference; all things fade
Into the grey of a twilight that covers my soul with its sky;
Scarcely I know that this shade is the world, or this burden is I;
And life, and art, and love, and death, are the shades of a shade.
White Currants
© Amy Lowell
Shall I give you white currants?
I do not know why, but I have a sudden fancy for this fruit.
Written in July
© Samuel Rogers
Grey, thou hast served, and well, the sacred Cause
That Hampden, Sydney died for. Thou hast stood,
Watching
© Henry Kendall
Like a beautiful face looking ever at me
A pure bright moon cometh over the sea;
"What were the good of stars if none looked on them"
© Lesbia Harford
What were the good of stars if none looked on them
But mariners, astronomers and such!
The sun and moon and stars were made for lovers.
I know that much.
Winter Journey Over The Hartz Mountain
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
LIKE the vulture
Who on heavy morning clouds
With gentle wing reposing
Looks for his prey,-
Hover, my song!
Written in 1834
© Samuel Rogers
Well, when her day is over, be it said
That, though a speck on the terrestrial globe,
Found with long search and in a moment lost,
She made herself a name--a name to live
We're Coming! We're Coming!
© Anonymous
We're coming, we're coming, the fearless and free,
Like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea!
Who Is Your Boss?
© Edgar Albert Guest
"I work for someone else," he said;
"I have no chance to get ahead.
Written For My Son
© Mary Barber
When Athens was for Arts and Arms renown'd,
Olympic Wreaths uncommon Merit crown'd.
These slight Distinctions from the Learn'd and Wise,
Convey'd eternal Honour with the Prize:
'Twas this, the gen'rous Love of Fame inspir'd,
And Grecian Breasts with noblest Ardor fir'd.
What The Wind Said
© James Whitcomb Riley
'I muse to-day, in a listless way,
In the gleam of a summer land;
I close my eyes as a lover may
At the touch of his sweetheart's hand,
And I hear these things in the whisperings
Of the zephyrs round me fanned':--
When I Was A Boy
© Friedrich Hölderlin
All you faithful
friendly gods!
I wish you knew
how my soul loved you!
