Poems begining by W
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We Sing to Thee, Thou Son of God
© Augustus Montague Toplady
We sing to Thee, Thou Son of God,
Fountain of life and grace;
We praise Thee, Son of Man, whose blood
Redeemed our fallen race.
"Wreck" and "rise above"
© Hugo Williams
Because of the first, the fear of wreck,
which they taught us to fear (though we learned
When From The Sod The Flow'rets Spring
© Walther von der Vogelweide
When from the sod the flow'rets spring,
And smile to meet the sun's bright ray,
Wreaths
© Geoffrey Hill
This poem originally appeared in the May 1957 issue of Poetry. See it in its original context.
"Weep You No More, Sad Fountains"
© Pierre Reverdy
Weep you no more, sad fountains;
What need you flow so fast?
What I Have Seen #2
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I saw a maid with her chivalrous lover:
He was both tender and true;
He kissed her lips, vowing over and over,
"Darling, I worship you."
Sing, sing, bird of the spring,
Tell of the flowers the summer will bring.
Wishes
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
I wish we could live as the flowers live,
To breathe and to bloom in the summer and sun;
What Does The Donkey Bray About?
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
What does the donkey bray about?
What does the pig grunt through his snout?
Waterloo Day
© Edith Nesbit
THIS is the day of our glory; this is our day to weep.
Under her dusty laurels England stirs in her sleep;
Dreams of her days of honour, terrible days that are dead,
Days of the making of story, days when the sword was red,
When I Heard the Learnd Astronomer
© Walt Whitman
When I heard the learnd astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When de Co'n Pone's Hot
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Dey is times in life when Nature
Seems to slip a cog an' go,
Wild Flowers by Matthew Vetter: American Life in Poetry #206 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-200
© Ted Kooser
Ah, yes, the mid-life crisis. And there's a lot of mid-life in which it can happen. Jerry Lee Lewis sang of it so well in 'He's thirty-nine and holding, holding everything he can.' And here's a fine poem by Matthew Vetter, portraying just such a man.
Wild Flowers
Winter Evening
© Archibald Lampman
To-night the very horses springing by
Toss gold from whitened nostrils. In a dream
The streets that narrow to the westward gleam
Like rows of golden palaces; and high
Winter
© Frances Anne Kemble
I saw him on his throne, far in the north,
Him ye call Winter, picturing him ever
Written in London. September, 1802
© William Wordsworth
O Friend! I know not which way I must look
For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,
What Sort Of A Friend Are You?
© Edgar Albert Guest
What sort of a friend are you?
Do you stick by a brother's side,
When You Come
© Maya Angelou
When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.
Westward the course of empire takes its way;
© George Berkeley
Westward the course of empire takes its way;
The four first acts already past,
A fifth shall close the drama with the day:
Times noblest offspring is the last.
