Poems begining by W

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Who would true Valour see

© John Bunyan

Who would true Valour see

  Let him come hither;

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Wanted--A Little Girl

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Where have they gone to-the little girls
With natural manners and natural curls;
Who love their dollies and like their toys,
And talk of something besides the boys?

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What Smith Knew About Farming

© James Whitcomb Riley

There wasn't two purtier farms in the state

Than the couple of which I'm about to relate;--

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With My Beloved

© Rabia al Basri

With my Beloved I alone have been,

When secrets tenderer than evening airs

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Written in Westminster Abbey

© Samuel Rogers

Whoe'er thou art, approach, and, with a sigh,
Mark where the small remains of Greatness lie.
There sleeps the dust of Him for ever gone;
How near the Scene where once his Glory shone!

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When We First Played "Show"

© James Whitcomb Riley

Wasn't it a good time,

  Long Time Ago--

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Words In The Night

© George MacDonald

I woke at midnight, and my heart,

My beating heart, said this to me:

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What The Scare-Crow Said

© Vachel Lindsay

The dim-winged spirits of the night
Do fear and serve me well.
They creep from out the hedges of
The garden where I dwell.

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Which Has More Patience -- Man or Woman?

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

  Just watch a man who tries
  To soothe a baby's cries;
  Or put a stove pipe up in weather cold,
  Into what a state he'll get;
  How he'll fuss and fume and fret
  And stamp and bluster round and storm and scold!

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What She Said

© Katharine Tynan

She said: Would I might sleep
With the bulbs I plant so deep,
Forgetting all the long Winter
That I must awake and weep.

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Woodley

© William Barnes

Sweet Woodley! oh! how fresh an' gaÿ

  Thy leänes an' vields be now in Maÿ,

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Winter Sleep

© Edith Matilda Thomas

I KNOW it must be winter (though I sleep)—
  I know it must be winter, for I dream
  I dip my bare feet in the running stream,
And flowers are many, and the grass grows deep.

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When We Play The Fool

© Edgar Albert Guest

Last night I stood in a tawdry place

And watched the ways of the human race.

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We pray—to Heaven

© Emily Dickinson

We pray-to Heaven-
We prate-of Heaven-
Relate-when Neighbors die-
At what o'clock to heaven-they fled-
Who saw them-Wherefore fly?

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Whistling Phil McHugh

© William Percy French

Oh! Whistlin Phil McHugh,

Has come over from Bunlaghy,

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Wheat

© William Barnes

In brown-leav'd Fall the wheat a-left

  'Ithin its darksome bed,

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When I Am Dead

© John Philip Bourke

When I am dead

Bring me no roses white.

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Windflower Leaf

© Carl Sandburg

This flower is repeated
  out of old winds, out of
  old times.

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When the Ladies Come to the Shearing Shed

© Henry Lawson

‘THE LADIES are coming,’ the super says

  To the shearers sweltering there,

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Where My Sight Goes

© Yvor Winters

Who knows
Where my sight goes,
What your sight shows--
Where the peachtree blows?