Poems begining by W
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We'll go No More A-Roving
© William Ernest Henley
We'll go no more a-roving by the light of the moon.
November glooms are barren beside the dusk of June.
The summer flowers are faded, the summer thoughts are sere.
We'll go no more a-roving, lest worse befall, my dear.
Wind At Midnight
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Naked night; black elms, pallid and streaming sky!
Alone with the passion of the Wind,
In a hollow of stormy sound lost and alone am I,
On beaten earth a lost, unmated mind,
Whip-Poor-Will And Katy-Did
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Slow de night 's a-fallin',
An' I hyeah de callin,
Out erpon de lonesome hill;
Soun' is moughty dreary,
Solemn-lak an' skeery,
Sayin' fu' to "whip po' Will."
When the Evening Star Went Down
© Henry Clay Work
They sleep in a fathomless grave,
The guest and the mariner brave;
They pillow their heads on coral beds,
Beneath the blue ocean waves,
Beneath the blue ocean waves.
Working People
© Arthur Rimbaud
O that warm February morning!
The untimely south came
to stir up our absurd paupers' memories,
our young distress.
Where is my Ruined Life ?
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
WHERE is my ruined life, and where the fame
Of noble deeds?
Look on my long-drawn road, and whence it came,
And where it leads!
With My Fatherland
© Hovhannes Toumanian
Your wounds are countless, O my land, yet still alive are you.
The cherished words we have waited for are already breaking through
Your lips compressed with sorrow; we believe that on the way
Destined to you by God and Fate-those words you'll find and say.
We wait with fervour for your call-anon, Anon we hear it;
You will become a promised land, free both, in flesh and spirit,
Wet Weather Talk
© James Whitcomb Riley
It ain't no use to grumble and complain;
It's jest as cheap and easy to rejoice:
When God sorts out the weather and sends rain,
W'y, rain's my choice.
Wild Bees
© John Clare
These children of the sun which summer brings
As pastoral minstrels in her merry train
Written In The Mountains Of The Tyrol
© Richard Monckton Milnes
A Heart the world of men had bound and sealed
With shameful stamp and miserable chain,
Here, mother Nature, is to Thee revealed,
Open to Thee; oh! be it not in vain.
We Talk Of Taxes, And I Call You Friend
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
We talk of taxes, and I call you friend;
Well, such you are,but well enough we know
When Sorrow Comes
© Edgar Albert Guest
When sorrow comes, as come it must,
In God a man must place his trust.
There is no power in mortal speech
The anguish of his soul to reach,
No voice, however sweet and low,
Can comfort him or ease the blow.
Woodmanship
© George Gascoigne
My worthy Lord, I pray you wonder not
To see your woodman shoot so oft awry,
Written For My Son, Upon Lady Santry's Coming To School, To See Her Son, And Getting The Scholars A
© Mary Barber
So Ceres, lovely and divine,
Eager to see her Proserpine,
Blessing the Nations as she pass'd,
Reach'd the fell Tyrant's Court at last;
Winter Rain
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Every valley drinks,
Every dell and hollow;
Where the kind rain sinks and sinks,
Green of Spring will follow.
Winter Stars
© Larry Levis
Sometimes, I go out into this yard at night,
And stare through the wet branches of an oak
In winter, & realize I am looking at the stars
Again. A thin haze of them, shining
And persisting.
Were I Man Grown
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Were I man grown, I'd stand
With clean heart, soul, and hand,
An honor to this land.
Walking With God
© John Newton
By faith in Christ I walk with God,
With heav'n, my journeys'-end, in view;
Supported by his staff and rod,
My road is safe and pleasant too,
