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
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Beatrix Potter
Though flattered by imitators galore Miss Potter's work stands supreme. Her many picture stories should be among the first books owned by children. Cecily Parsley lived in a pen,And brewed good ale for gentlemen; Gentlemen came every day,Till Cecily Parsley ran away. Goosey, goosey, gander,Whither will you wander?Upstairs and downstairs,And in my lady's chamber! This pig went to market;This...
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James Thomson
PROEM Lo, thus, as prostrate, "In the dust I writeMy heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears."Yet why evoke the spectres of black nightTo blot the sunshine of exultant years?Why disinter dead faith from mouldering hidden? 5Why break the seals of mute despair unbidden,And wail life's discords into careless ears? Because a cold rage seizes one at whilesTo show the bitter old...
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HAFBUR AND SIGNE Young Hafbur King and Sivard King They lived in bitter enmity;’Twas Signe proud that caused their feud, Of maidens all the fairest she. It was youthful Hafbur King Awaked at midnight with a bound,And full of dread he straightway said His wondrous dream to all around. “Methought I was in heaven’s domain, Within that place so fair to view,And held to my breast...
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Kalidasa
KALIDASA—HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS I Kalidasa probably lived in the fifth century of the Christian era. This date, approximate as it is, must yet be given with considerable hesitation, and is by no means certain. No truly biographical data are preserved about the author, who nevertheless enjoyed a great popularity during his life, and whom the Hindus have ever regarded as the greatest of Sanskrit poets....
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RHYMES OF A ROLLING STONE Prelude I sing no idle songs of dalliance days,No dreams Elysian inspire my rhyming;I have no Celia to enchant my lays,No pipes of Pan have set my heart to chiming.I am no wordsmith dripping gems divineInto the golden chalice of a sonnet;If love songs witch you, close this book of mine,Waste no time on it. Yet bring I to my work an eager joy,A lusty love of life and all things...
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Kate Greenaway
A APPLE PIE By KATE GREENAWAY London FREDERICK WARNE & Ltd. & New York Printed in Great Britain by W & J Mackay Limited, Chatham from original woodblock designs engraved in 1886 ...
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Thomas Gray
To some the eighteenth-century definition of proper poetic matter is unacceptable; but to any who believe that true poetry may (if not "must") consist in "what oft was thought but ne'er so well expressed," Gray's "Churchyard" is a majestic achievement—perhaps (accepting the definition offered) the supreme achievement of its century. Its success, so the great critic...
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John Gower
Prologus Torpor, ebes sensus, scola parua labor minimusqueCausant quo minimus ipse minora canam:Qua tamen Engisti lingua canit Insula BrutiAnglica Carmente metra iuuante loquar.Ossibus ergo carens que conterit ossa loquelisAbsit, et interpres stet procul oro malus. Of hem that writen ous toforeThe bokes duelle, and we therforeBen tawht of that was write tho:Forthi good is that we alsoIn oure tyme among...
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The Little New Year One cold morning Maurice awoke from his dreams and sat up in bed and listened. He thought he heard a knock at his window; but though the moon was shining brightly, Jack Frost had been so busily at work that Maurice could not see through the thickly painted panes. So he crept sleepily out of bed, and opened the window, and whispered: "Who is there?" "I am," replied a...
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Anonymous
Punky Dunk, so fat, was a black and white catOf exceedingly tender years.He had black on his nose and the tips of his toes,On the end of his tail and his ears.He cast his lot in a very soft spotFor his bed was a box full of straw,And he slept all night with his eyes shut tightAnd his little black nose on his paw.Punky Dunk would peep, though he seemed asleep,At the bird in its cage of brass,And his tail...
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