Poems begining by W
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What the Frost Casts Up by Ed Ochester: American Life in Poetry #150 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
There's a world of great interest and significance right under our feet, but most of us don't think to look down. We spend most of our time peering off into the future, speculating on how we will deal with whatever is coming our way. Or dwelling on the past. Here Ed Ochester stops in the middle of life to look down.
What the Frost Casts Up
With Hale Affection And Abiding Faith These Rhymes And Pictures Are Inscribed To The Children Everyw
© James Whitcomb Riley
_He owns the bird-songs of the hills--
The laughter of the April rills;
Who is at my door?
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
He said, "Who is at my door?"
I said, "Your humble servant."
He said, "What business do you have?"
I said, "To greet you, 0 Lord."
Washington and Lincoln
© Henry Clay Work
Come, happy people! Oh come let us tell
The story of Washington and Lincoln!
With A Seashell
© James Russell Lowell
Shell, whose lips, than mine more cold,
Might with Dian's ear make bold,
Who Made The Law ?
© Leslie Coulson
Who made the Law that men should die in shadows ?
Who spake the word that blood should splash in lanes ?
Who gave it forth that gardens should be bone-yards ?
Who spread the hills with flesh, and blood, and brains ?
Who made the Law ?
Winter Rose
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
GOD'S benison upon each happy day
Dead now and gone!--its gentle ghost our feet
Doth follow, singing faintly; and how sweet--
Tenderly sweet, as through a luminous mist--
Will
© Alfred Tennyson
O, well for him whose will is strong!
He suffers, but he will not suffer long;
Whoever Brought Me Here
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
With A Rose From Conway Castle
© Julia Caroline (Ripley) Dorr
On hoary Conway's battlemented height,
O poet-heart, I pluck for thee a rose!
What Makes Summer?
© George MacDonald
Winter froze both brook and well;
Fast and fast the snowflakes fell;
Wife To Husband
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Pardon the faults in me,
For the love of years ago:
Good-bye.
I must drift across the sea,
I must sink into the snow,
I must die.
Washington!
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Feb. 22, 1732
BRIGHT natal morn! what face appears
Beyond the rolling mist of years?
A face whose loftiest traits, combine
When The Storm Was Proudest
© George MacDonald
When the storm was proudest,
And the wind was loudest,
I heard the hollow caverns drinking down below;
When the stars were bright,
And the ground was white,
I heard the grasses springing underneath the snow.
When It is Finished
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
WHEN it is finished, Father, and we set
The war-stained buckler and the bright blade by,
Will Yer Write It Down for Me?
© Henry Lawson
And the backblocks bard goes through it, ever seeking as he goes
For the line of least resistance to the hearts of men he knows;
And he tracks their hearts in mateship, and he tracks them out alone
Seeking for the power to sway them, till he finds it in his own,
Feels what they feel, loves what they love, learns to hate what they condemn,
Takes his pen in tears and triumph, and he writes it down for them.
Who Hath Despised The Day Of Small Things?
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
As violets so be I recluse and sweet,
Cheerful as daisies unaccounted rare,
Still sunward-gazing from a lowly seat,
Still sweetening wintry air.
Waves
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
ALL day the waves assailed the rock,
I heard no church-bell chime;
The sea-beat scorns the minster clock
And breaks the glass of Time.
Words For The Axe
© Larry Levis
Each day I go further into the woods.
They fall before me like a road
Without stars, and without a curve.
It goes on the ocean, now.
