Poems begining by W
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Where I?
© Robinson Jeffers
This woman cannot live more than one year.
Her growing death is hidden in a hopeless place,
Whom The Gods Love
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Whom the gods love die young. Ah, do not doubt of it.
Laura did well to die. Our loss was a gain for her,
Ours who so loved her laughter, ours who at thought of it
Shrink from a wound yet tender, wailing in vain for her.
WeBee and Ilive by the quaffing
© Emily Dickinson
WeBee and Ilive by the quaffing
'Tisn't all Hockwith us
Life has its Ale
But it's many a lay of the Dim Burgundy
We chantfor cheerwhen the Winesfail
Worth Forest
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Come, Prudence, you have done enough to--day--
The worst is over, and some hours of play
We both have earned, even more than rest, from toil;
Our minds need laughter, as a spent lamp oil,
Whoso List to Hunt
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,
But as for me, helas! I may no more.
The vain travail hath worried me so sore,
I am of them that furthest come behind.
With Serving Still
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
With serving still
This I have won,
For my goodwill
To be undone.
What Needeth These Threat'ning Words
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
What needeth these threnning words and wasted wind?
All this cannot make me restore my prey.
To rob your good, iwis, is not my mind,
Nor causeless your fair hand did I display.
Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapture?
© Marina Tsvetaeva
Whence cometh such tender rapture?
Those curls--they are not the first ones
I've smoothened, and I've already
Known lips--that were darker than yours.
Week-Night Service
© David Herbert Lawrence
The five old bells
Are hurrying and eagerly calling,
Imploring, protesting
They know, but clamorously falling
We Must Get Home
© James Whitcomb Riley
We must get home! How could we stray like this?--
So far from home, we know not where it is,--
Only in some fair, apple-blossomy place
Of children's faces--and the mother's face--
We dimly dream it, till the vision clears
Even in the eyes of fancy, glad with tears.
We Two Boys Together Clinging
© Walt Whitman
WE two boys together clinging,
One the other never leaving,
Willy Wet-Leg
© David Herbert Lawrence
I cant stand Willy Wet-Leg,
Cant stand him at any price.
Hes resigned, and when you hit him
he lets you hit him twice.
Worm Either Way
© David Herbert Lawrence
If you live along with all the other people
and are just like them, and conform, and are nice
you're just a worm --
When I Was Small
© Jens Baggesen
There was a time when I was very small
A mere two feet was all I measured then;
And, when I think of this, tears sweetly fall,
So of it I think time and time again.
We are Transmitters
© David Herbert Lawrence
And if, as we work, we can transmit life into our work,
life, still more life, rushes into us to compensate, to be ready
and we ripple with life through the days.
Whales Weep Not!
© David Herbert Lawrence
All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge
on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs.
The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers
there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of
the sea!
When Pa Comes Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
When Pa comes home, I'm at the door,
An' then he grabs me off the floor
Wood Rides
© John Clare
Who hath not felt the influence that so calms
The weary mind in summers sultry hours
When wandering thickest woods beneath the arms
Of ancient oaks and brushing nameless flowers
