Very Seldom (Constantine P. Cavafy Poem)
He's an old man. Used up and bent, crippled by time and indulgence, he slowly walks along the narrow street. ...
Poems about stir (51 Poems)
A prayer to the Wind (Thomas Carew Poem)
Go thou gentle whispering wind, Bear this sigh; and if thou find Where my cruel fair doth rest, Cast it ...
The Task: Book IV, The Winter Evening (excerpts) (William Cowper Poem)
Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in ...
The Visible, The Untrue (Hart Crane Poem)
Yes, I being the terrible puppet of my dreams, shall lavish this on you- the dense mine of the orchid, ...
As some vast Tropic tree, itself a wood (fragment) (Samuel Coleridge Poem)
As some vast Tropic tree, itself a wood, That crests its Head with clouds, beneath the flood Feeds its deep ...
To The Rev. George Coleridge (Samuel Coleridge Poem)
Notus in fratres animi paterni. Hor. Carm. lib.II.2. A bless?d lot hath he, who having passed His youth and early ...
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner (Samuel Coleridge Poem)
Part I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering ...
The Wise (Countee Cullen Poem)
Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot ...
Phantasmagoria CANTO IV ( Hys Nouryture ) (Lewis Carroll Poem)
"OH, when I was a little Ghost, A merry time had we! Each seated on his favourite post, We chumped ...
Prologue (Lewis Carroll Poem)
All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are ...
All In The Golden Afternoon (Lewis Carroll Poem)
All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are ...
November (John Clare Poem)
The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon; And, if the sun looks through, 'tis with a face Beamless ...
The Growth of Love (Robert Seymour Bridges Poem)
1 They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every ...
The Twelve (Aleksandr Blok Poem)
III Our sons have gone to serve the Reds to serve the Reds to risk their heads! O bitter,bitter pain, ...
I threw my arms about those shoulders… (Joseph Brodsky Poem)
I threw my arms about those shoulders, glancing at what emerged behind that back, and saw a chair pushed slightly ...
The Missionary (Charlotte Bronte Poem)
Lough, vessel, plough the British main, Seek the free ocean's wider plain; Leave English scenes and English skies, Unbind, dissever ...
The Wife’s Will (Charlotte Bronte Poems)
SIT stilla worda breath may break (As light airs stir a sleeping lake,) The glassy calm that soothes my woes, ...
Pilate’s Wife’s Dream (Charlotte Bronte Poems)
I've quenched my lamp, I struck it in that start Which every limb convulsed, I heard it fall The crash ...
Passion (Charlotte Bronte Poem)
SOME have won a wild delight, By daring wilder sorrow; Could I gain thy love to-night, I'd hazard death to-morrow. ...
My Comforter (Emily Bronte Poem)
Well hast thou spoken, and yet, not taught A feeling strange or new; Thou hast but roused a latent thought, ...
Ante Aram (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper, Chanting strange hymns to thee and sorrowful litanies, Incense of dirges, prayers ...
Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Swings the way still by hollow and hill, And all the world's a song; "She's far," it sings me, "but ...
Sonnet: Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Of watching you; and swing me suddenly Into the shade and ...
The Dead: IV (Rupert Brooke Poem)
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given ...
Mary and Gabriel (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Young Mary, loitering once her garden way, Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day, As wine that blushes ...
IV. The Dead (Rupert Brooke Poem)
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given ...
Sonnet: I said I splendidly loved you; it’s not true (Rupert Brooke Poems)
I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true. Such long swift tides stir not a land-locked sea. On gods ...
Unfortunate (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind; Saying, "She is most ...
1914 IV: The Dead (Rupert Brooke Poem)
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given ...
Oh! Death Will Find Me, Long Before I Tire (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Of watching you; and swing me suddenly Into the shade and ...