Women poems
/ page 61 of 142 /The Princess (prologue)
© Alfred Tennyson
Sir Walter Vivian all a summer's day
Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun
Letter Home
© Natasha Trethewey
--New Orleans, November 1910Four weeks have passed since I left, and still
I must write to you of no work. I've worn down
the soles and walked through the tightness
of my new shoes calling upon the merchants,
The Husband Of To-Day
© Edith Nesbit
EYES caught by beauty, fancy by eyes caught;
Sweet possibilities, question, and wonder--
The Centerarian's Story
© Walt Whitman
GIVE me your hand, old Revolutionary;
The hill-top is nigh-but a few steps, (make room, gentlemen
Up the path you have follow'd me well, spite of your hundred and
extra years;
You can walk, old man, though your eyes are almost done;
Your faculties serve you, and presently I must have them serve me.
Julian and Maddalo : A Conversation
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand
Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand,
Samson And Delilah
© Edgar Lee Masters
Because thou wast most delicate,
A woman fair for men to see,
The earth did compass thy estate,
Thou didst hold life and death in fee,
And every soul did bend the knee.
On The Dedication Of Dorothy Hall
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Not to the midnight of the gloomy past,
Do we revert to-day; we look upon
The golden present and the future vast
Whose vistas show us visions of the dawn.
81. SongFor a that
© Robert Burns
THO 1 womens minds, like winter winds,
May shift, and turn, an a that,
The noblest breast adores them maist
A consequence I draw that.
Garden Street
© Roderic Quinn
LONG and drowsy and white and wide,
Villas and arbours on either side,
Pleasant under the cloudless skies,
Garden Street in the sunlight lies.
67. Epistle to John Goldie, in Kilmarnock
© Robert Burns
Ive seen me dazed upon a time,
I scarce could wink or see a styme;
Just ae half-mutchkin does me prime,
Ought less is little
Then back I rattle on the rhyme,
As glegs a whittle.
The Choice
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
This Consul Casementhe who heard the cry
Of stricken peopleand who in his fight
327. On Glenriddells Fox breaking his chain: A Fragment
© Robert Burns
These things premised, I sing a Fox,
Was caught among his native rocks,
And to a dirty kennel chained,
How he his liberty regained.
242. The Poets Progress
© Robert Burns
THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign;
Of thy caprice maternal I complain.
The peopled fold thy kindly care have found,
The hornèd bull, tremendous, spurns the ground;
The Ballad of the White Horse
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night-
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
Howard At Atlanta
© John Greenleaf Whittier
RIGHT in the track where Sherman
Ploughed his red furrow,
Out of the narrow cabin,
Up from the cellar's burrow,
Criterion
© Hilaire Belloc
When you are mixed with many I descry
A single light, and judge the rest thereby.
But when you are alone with me, why then,
I quite forget all women and all men.
It was you, Atthis, who said
© Sappho
It was you, Atthis, who said
"Sappho, if you will not get
up and let us look at you
I shall never love you again!