Poetry
- American 96
- Ancient, Classical & Medieval 41
- Anthologies (multiple authors) 1
- Asian 15
- Australian & Oceanian 11
- Canadian 11
- Caribbean & Latin American 5
- Children's Poetry & Nursery rhymes 51
- Continental European 11
- English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh 162
- General 483
- Inspirational & Religious 7
- Middle Eastern 3
Poetry Books
Sort by:
TO read the old Nursery Rhymes brings back queer lost memories of a man's own childhood. One seems to see the loose floppy picture-books of long ago, with their boldly coloured pictures. The books were tattered and worn, and my first library consisted of a wooden box full of these volumes. And I can remember being imprisoned for some crime in the closet where the box was, and how my gaolers found...
more...
by:
Robert Graves
A FROSTY NIGHT. Mother Alice, dear, what ails you,Dazed and white and shaken?Has the chill night numbed you?Is it fright you have taken? Alice Mother, I am very well,I felt never better,Mother, do not hold me so,Let me write my letter. Mother Sweet, my dear, what ails you? Alice No, but I am well;The night was cold and frosty,There's no more to tell. Mother Ay, the night was frosty,Coldly gaped...
more...
by:
Oliver Herford
THE REG'LAR LARK The Reg'lar Lark's a very gay old Bird;At sunrise often may his voice be heardAs jauntily he wends his homeward way,And trills a fresh and merry roundelay.And some old, wise philosopher has said:Rise with a lark, and with a lark to bed. Although a learned EntomologistMay doubt if Humbugs really do exist,Yet each of us, I'm sure, can truly sayWe've seen a number...
more...
ULF VAN YERN It was youthful Ulf Van Yern Goes before the King to stand:“To avenge my father’s death Lend me warriors of thy band.” “Of my kemps I’ll lend thee them Who to follow thee consent;Ask’st thou Vidrik Verlandson Thou wilt further thy intent. “I will lend thee of my men, Thou shalt have the very flower;Vidrik, and stark Diderik, Many kemps have felt their...
more...
by:
Ada M. Marzials
THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW "Different people have different opinions" The North Wind doth blow,And we shall have snow,And what will the robin do then? Poor thing!He will sit in a barn,And to keep himself warmHe will hide his head under his wing. Poor thing! Oh, how cold it was! The North Wind howled round the barn, whirling the snowflakes into a little heap inside the half-open door. Even beyond...
more...
INTRODUCTION TO EIDOLON. Hazlitt says, one cannot "make an allegory go on all fours," it must to a certain degree be obscure and shadowy, like the images which the traveller in the desert sees mirrored on the heavens, wherein he can trace but a dreamy resemblance to the reality beneath. It therefore seems to me advisable to give a solution of the "Eidolon," the symbol, which follows,...
more...
NIELS EBBESEN. All his men the Count collects, And from Slesvig marched away;Never such as host was seen Or before or since that day. Into Denmark marched the Count, Followed by so fair a band;Banners twenty-four they bore, Power like theirs might none withstand. Gert the Count to Randers rode, To bad counsel lending ear;For from old it stood foretold, He should end there his...
more...
THE WAYSIDE INN.One Autumn night, in Sudbury town,Across the meadows bare and brown,The windows of the wayside innGleamed red with fire-light through the leavesOf woodbine, hanging from the eavesTheir crimson curtains rent and thin.As ancient is this hostelryAs any in the land may be,Built in the old Colonial day,When men lived in a grander way,With ampler hospitality;A kind of old Hobgoblin Hall,Now...
more...
ARE WOMEN PEOPLE? A Consistent Anti to Her Son("Look at the hazards, the risks, the physical dangers that ladies would be exposed to at the polls."—Anti-suffrage speech.)You're twenty-one to-day, Willie, And a danger lurks at the door, I've known about it always, But I never spoke before; When you were only a baby It seemed so very remote, But you're twenty-one to-day, Willie,...
more...
THE OLD HANGING FORK.I.O don't you remember those days so divine,Around which the heart-strings all tenderly twine,When with sapling pole and a painted corkWe fished up and down the old Hanging Fork—From the railroad bridge, with its single span,Clear down to the mill at Dawson's old dam—From early morn till the shades of night,And it made no difference if fishdidn'tbite?II.What...
more...