Poems begining by W

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When Early March Seems Middle May

© James Whitcomb Riley

When country roads begin to thaw
In mottled spots of damp and dust,
And fences by the margin draw
Along the frosty crust
Their graphic silhouettes, I say,
The Spring is coming round this way.

What Semiramis Said

© Vachel Lindsay

THE moon's a steaming chalice,
Of honey and venom-wine.
A little of it sipped by night
Makes the long hours divine.

What the Ghost of the Gambler Said

© Vachel Lindsay

WHERE now the huts are empty,
Where never a camp-fire glows,
In an abandoned caÃ±on,
A Gambler's Ghost arose.

Spake the grave Arab, as his flashing glance
Swept the large, luminous verdure's dewy sheen,
Sedately, with a bronze-like countenance:
"Nehârak Saîd! Lo, this happy day,
My country decks herself in sumptuous green,
And smiling welcome, Lady, bids you stay."

With Scindia to Delphi

© Rudyard Kipling

More than a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought near Delhi,
an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after the day was lost
with a beggar-girl, who had loved him and followed him in all his camps,
on his saddle-bow. He lost the girl when almost within sight of safety.

Wilful Missing

© Rudyard Kipling

(Deserters)
There is a world outside the one you know,
To which for curiousness 'Ell can't compare--
It is the place where "wilful-missings" go,
As we can testify, for we are there.

White Horses

© Rudyard Kipling

Where run your colts at pasture?
Where hide your mares to breed?
'Mid bergs about the Ice-cap
Or wove Sargasso weed;

When 'Omer Smote 'Is Bloomin' Lyre

© Rudyard Kipling

When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre,
He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea;
An' what he thought 'e might require,
'E went an' took -- the same as me!

When the Great Ark

© Rudyard Kipling

When the Great Ark, in Vigo Bay,
Rode stately through the half-manned fleet,
From every ship about her way
She heard the mariners entreat--
Before we take the seas again
Let down your boats and send us men!

When Earth's Last Picture Is Painted

© Rudyard Kipling

And only The Master shall praise us, and only The Master shall blame;
Andd no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame,
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They are!

What the People Said

© Rudyard Kipling

(June 21st, 1887)
By the well, where the bullocks go
Silent and blind and slow --
By the field where the young corn dies

What Happened

© Rudyard Kipling

Hurree Chunder Mookerjee, pride of Bow Bazaar,
Owner of a native press, "Barrishter-at-Lar,"
Waited on the Government with a claim to wear
Sabres by the bucketful, rifles by the pair.

When Evening Shadows Fall

© James Whitcomb Riley

When evening shadows fall,

She hangs her cares away

Wert Thou but illthat I might show thee

Wert Thou but illthat I might show thee
How long a Day I could endure
Though thine attention stop not on me
Nor the least signal, Me assure

"Welcome, Dear Heart, and a Most Kind Good-Morrow"

© Thomas Hood

Welcome, dear Heart, and a most kind good-morrow;
The day is gloomy, but our looks shall shine:
Flowers I have none to give thee, but I borrow
Their sweetness in a verse to speak for thine.

Winter-Solitude

I saw the city's towers on a luminous pale-gray sky;
Beyond them a hill of the softest mistiest green,
With naught but frost and the coming of night between,
And a long thin cloud above the colour of August rye.