Hyperion by John Keats

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star, Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest. A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more By reason of his fallen divinity Spreading a shade: the Naiad 'mid her reeds Press'd her cold finger closer to her lips...

Ode to the Cat by Pablo Neruda

The animals were imperfect, long-tailed, unfortunate in their heads. Little by little they put themselves together, making themselves a landscape, acquiring spots, grace, flight. The cat, only the cat appeared complete and proud: he was born completely finished, walking alone and knowing what he wanted...

Renascence by Edna St Vincent Millay

ALL I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked the other way, And saw three islands in a bay. So with my eyes I traced the line Of the horizon, thin and fine, Straight around till I was come Back to where I’d started from; And all I saw from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood. Over these things I could not see: These were the things that bounded me...

Chaucers Wordes Unto Adam by Geoffrey Chaucer

Adam scriveyn, if ever it thee bifalle Boece or Troylus for to wryten newe, Under thy long lokkes thou most have the scalle...

The Amen Stone by Yehuda Amichai

On my desk there is a stone with the word “Amen” on it, a triangular fragment of stone from a Jewish graveyard destroyed many generations ago. The other fragments, hundreds upon hundreds, were scattered helter-skelter, and a great yearning, a longing without end, fills them all: first name in search of family name, date of death seeks...

Mazeppa by George Gordon Byron

'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede-- Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to combat and to bleed. The power and glory of the war, Faithless as their vain votaries, men, Had passed to the triumphant Czar, And Moscow’s walls were safe again-- Until a day more dark and drear, And a more memorable year, Should give to slaughter and to shame A mightier host and haughtier name; A greater wreck, a deeper fall, A shock to one--a thunderbolt to all...

2 Little Whos by ee cummings

2 little whos (he and she) under are this wonderful tree...

Behind the Scenes by Banjo Paterson

The actor struts his little hour, Between the limelight and the band; The public feel the actor's power, Yet nothing do they understand Of all the touches here and there That make or mar the actor's part, They never see, beneath the glare, The artist striving after art. To them it seems a labour slight Where nought of study intervenes; You see it in another light When once you've been behind the scenes...

How Is your Heart by Charles Bukowski

during my worst times on the park benches in the jails or living with whores I always had this certain contentment- I wouldn't call it happiness-...

Virelay by Geoffrey Chaucer

Alone walking In thought plaining, And sore sighing; All desolate, Me rememb'ring Of my living; My death wishing Both early and late...

A Child is Somethings Else Again by Yehuda Amichai

A child is something else again. Wakes up in the afternoon and in an instant he's full of words, in an instant he's humming, in an instant warm, instant light, instant darkness...

Flag of the Southern Cross by Henry Lawson

Sons of Australia, be loyal and true to her — Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Sing a loud song to be joyous and new to her — Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Stain'd with the blood of the diggers who died by it, Fling out the flag to the front, and abide by it — Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross!...

Eurolove by Spike Milligan

I cannot and I will not No, I cannot love you less Like the flower to the butterfly The corsage to the dress....

Meeting at Night by Robert Browning

The grey sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand...

Equipment by Edgar Albert Guest

Figure it out for yourself, my lad, You've all that the greatest of men have had, Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes, And a brain to use if you would be wise. With this equipment they all began, So start for the top and say "I can."...

A Balade Of Complaint by Geoffrey Chaucer

Compleyne ne koude, ne might myn herte never, My peynes halve, ne what torment I have, Though that I sholde in your presence ben ever, Myn hertes lady, as wisly he me save That Bountee made, and Beautee list to grave In your persone, and bad hem bothe in-fere Ever t'awayte, and ay be wher ye were...

When by Jack Hirschman

When I saw in the council chambers of the big city the mouths of the council members opening and coming down on the fat sandwiches that'd been delivered to their places, coming down and chewing and leaning over talking with half-stuffed mouths, or heads thrown back laughing, their bellies chortling, and all the while one after another homeless person stood not far from them but far enough from them before a microphone requesting help for their most basic human wounds, protesting against a syndrome without alternatives except for skid-row hotels or a concentration camp in the downtown desert; –...

Saint Peter by Henry Lawson

Now, I think there is a likeness ‘twixt St Peter’s life and mine For he did a lot of trampin’ long ago in Palestine He was ‘union’ when the workers first began to organize And I’m glad that old St Peter keeps the gate of Paradise...

Plain Old Fun

It appeared inside our classroom at a quarter after ten, it gobbled up the blackboard, three erasers and a pen. It gobbled teacher's apple and it bopped her with the core. “How dare you!” she responded. “You must leave us . . . there's the door.”...

Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease...

Nellie by Jack Hirschman

After his shouts, the strops, her screams, the thrown things, the doorslam, the bitter weeping, out of the thin box, as the delicate paper was parted, she’d lift the sheer mojud stockings and run her fingertips along them, slowly smiling girlishly again...

Le Vampire by Charles Baudelaire

You who, like the stab of a knife, Entered my plaintive heart; You who, strong as a herd Of demons, came, ardent and adorned...

La Priere de Nostre Dame by Geoffrey Chaucer

All-potent Queen, whose mercies never cease, From whom the world seeks at its darkest hour For balm in sorrow, and from sin release; Virgin all-glorious, of all flowers the Flower, To thee, when clouds of error round me lower, I flee — thou Quintessence of Courtesie; Lest, in my perilous languor, by his power My cruel adversary vanquish me...

Fog by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes on little cat feet...

Especially When The October Wind by Dylan Thomas

Especially when the October wind With frosty fingers punishes my hair, Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire And cast a shadow crab upon the land, By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds, Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks, My busy heart who shudders as she talks Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words...

Man In Black by Sylvia Plath

Where the three magenta Breakwaters take the shove And suck of the grey sea To the left, and the wave Unfists against the dun Barb-wired headland of...

Flower by Rabindranath Tagore

Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust

Day in Autumn by Rainer Maria Rilke

After the summer's yield, Lord, it is time to let your shadow lengthen on the sundials and in the pastures let the rough winds fly...

Care for Thy Soul as Thing of Greatest Price by William Byrd

Care for thy soul as thing of greatest price, Made to the end to taste of power divine, Devoid of guilt, abhorring sin and vice, Apt by God’s grace to virtue to incline. Care for it so as by thy retchless train It be not brought to taste eternal pain...

Holy Willie’s Prayer by Robert Burns

O Thou that in the Heavens does dwell! Wha, as it pleases best thysel, Sends ane to Heaven and ten to Hell, A’ for Thy glory! And no for ony gude or ill They’ve done before Thee.—...

We’re All Australians Now by Banjo Paterson

Australia takes her pen in hand To write a line to you, To let you fellows understand How proud we are of you...

Porphyria’s Lover by Robert Browning

The rain set early in to-night, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its worst to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage warm,,,

Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came by Robert Browning

My first thought was, he lied in every word, That hoary cripple, with malicious eye Askance to watch the workings of his lie On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby...

The Bridge by Octavio Paz

Between now and now, between I am and you are, the word bridge...

Base Details by Siegfried Sassoon

If I were fierce, and bald, and short of breath I'd live with scarlet Majors at the Base, And speed glum heroes up the line to death. You'd see me with my puffy petulant face...

Darkness by George Gordon Byron

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day...

The Ballad of Sally in Our Alley by Henry Carey

Of all the Girls that are so smart There’s none like pretty Sally, She is the Darling of my Heart, And she lives in our Alley. There is no Lady in the Land Is half so sweet as Sally, She is the Darling of my Heart, And she lives in our Alley...

Up the Country by Henry Lawson

I am back from up the country — very sorry that I went — Seeking for the Southern poets' land whereon to pitch my tent; I have lost a lot of idols, which were broken on the track, Burnt a lot of fancy verses, and I'm glad that I am back. Further out may be the pleasant scenes of which our poets boast, But I think the country's rather more inviting round the coast. Anyway, I'll stay at present at a boarding-house in town, Drinking beer and lemon-squashes, taking baths and cooling down...

The Afterlife by Billy Collins

While you are preparing for sleep, brushing your teeth, or riffling through a magazine in bed, the dead of the day are setting out on their journey...

Barter by Sara Teasdale

Teasdale was a lyric poet born in St. Louis, Missouri. She won a Pulitzer Prize for her poetry collection Love Songs in 1918, and an award that is listed as the earliest Pulitzer Prize for Poetry Barter1918 Life has loveliness to sell,All beautiful and splendid things,Blue waves whitened on a cliff,Soaring fire that sways and …

Balaban by Jack Hirschman

Balaban1969 I ran down the street and into the house smelledof oregano and shook Mickey Monaco, saidC'mon, Balaban's got a breadloafclimbing over old Gruber's fence, he thinksthe mad dogs is doves. But Mickey grew up in the bed till he was too oldand besides Balaban was crazy, he suckedhis tongue and got left back twice.So …

Winter Stars by Sara Teasdale

I went out at night alone; The young blood flowing beyond the sea Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings— I bore my sorrow heavily...

A Poet’s Voice XV by Khalil Gibran

A Poet's Voice XV1923 Part One The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry. My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty. Heaven fills my lamp with oil …

A Centipede Was Thirsty by Jack Prelutsky

A centipede was thirsty, But to satisfy its need, It drank too much for it to hold ---

What Will You Do? by Rainer Maria Rilke

What will you do, God, when I die? I am your jar (if cracked, I lie?) Your well-spring (if the well go dry?) I am your craft, your vesture I— You lose your purport, losing me...

You May Turn Over and Begin by Simon Armitage

“Which of these films was Dirk Bogarde not in? One hundredweight of bauxite makes how much aluminium? how many tales in ‘The Decameron’?”...

Unity by Pablo Neruda

There is something dense, united, settled in the depths, repeating its number, its identical sign. How it is noted that stones have touched time, in their refined matter there is an odor of age, of water brought by the sea, from salt and sleep...

Poem by Simon Armitage

Poem And if it snowed and snow covered the drivehe took a spade and tossed it to one side.And always tucked his daughter up at nightAnd slippered her the one time that she lied.And every week he tipped up half his wage.And what he didn't spend each week he saved.And praised his wife for every …

We Refugees by Benjamin Zephaniah

We Refugees I come from a musical placeWhere they shoot me for my songAnd my brother has been torturedBy my brother in my land. I come from a beautiful placeWhere they hate my shade of skinThey don't like the way I prayAnd they ban free poetry. I come from a beautiful placeWhere girls cannot go …

Ode on Melancholy by John Keats

Ode on Melancholy1819 No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twistWolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'dBy nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;Make not your rosary of yew-berries,Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth beYour mournful Psyche, nor the downy owlA partner in your sorrow's mysteries;For shade to shade will …