Poems begining by W
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Woman!
© George Crabbe
Thus in extremes of cold and heat,
Where wandering man may trace his kind;
Wherever grief and want retreat,
In Woman they compassion find;
She makes the female breast her seat,
And dictates mercy to the mind.
When Fishes Set Umbrellas Up
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
When fishes set umbrellas up
If the rain-drops run,
Lizards will want their parasols
To shade them from the sun.
Will there really be a
© Emily Dickinson
Will there really be a "Morning"?
Is there such a thing as "Day"?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
Why Feed The Early Signs Of Boredom?
© Alexander Pushkin
Why feed the early signs of boredom
With sinister and dismal thought,
Where's the Use?
© Robert Fuller Murray
Oh, where's the use of having gifts that can't be turned to money?
And where's the use of singing, when there's no one wants to hear?
It may be one or two will say your songs are sweet as honey,
But where's the use of honey, when the loaf of bread is dear?
When I Go Alone At Night
© Rabindranath Tagore
WHEN I go alone at night to my love-tryst, birds do not sing, the wind does not stir, the houses on both sides of the street stand silent.
It is my own anklets that grow loud at every step and I am ashamed.
What The Poet Was Telling Himself In 1848
© Victor Marie Hugo
You mustn't seek out power, mustn't grab the helm
Your work lies elsewhere, spirit of another realm,
What Dick An I Did
© William Barnes
Last week the Browns ax'd nearly all
The naïghbours to a randy,
When Ragyng Loue With Extreme Payne
© Henry Howard
When ragyng loue with extreme payne
Most cruelly distrains my hart:
Winter Night
© Charles Heavysege
The stars are glittering in the frosty sky,
Frequent as pebbles on a broad sea-coast;
Words Of Comfort To Be Scratched On A Mirror
© Dorothy Parker
Helen of Troy had a wandering glance;
Sappho's restriction was only the sky;
Ninon was ever the chatter of France;
But oh, what a good girl am I!
When The Old Man Smokes
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
In the forenoon's restful quiet,
When the boys are off at school,
We dreamit is good we are dreaming
© Emily Dickinson
We dreamit is good we are dreaming
It would hurt uswere we awake
But since it is playingkill us,
And we are playingshriek
Wasted Beauty
© Arthur Symons
This beauty is vain, this, born to be wasted,
Poured on the ground like water, spilled, and by no man tasted;
Wishing
© William Allingham
Ring-Ting! I wish I were a Primrose,
A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the spring!
The stooping boughs above me,
The wandering bee to love me,
The fern and moss to creep across,
And the Elm tree for our king!
What is Divinity
© Wallace Stevens
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else
Witchcraft
© Madison Julius Cawein
THIS world is made a witchcraft place
With gazing on a woman's face.
