Isabella; Or, The Pot Of Basil: A Story From Boccaccio (John Keats Poems)
I.Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel!Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye!They could not in the self-same mansion dwellWithout some stir ...
Poems about chamber-window (12 Poems)
A Town (Jane Taylor Poems)
A BUSY town mid Britain's isle, Behold in fancy's eye ;With tower, and spire, and civic pile, Beneath a summer sky :And ...
The Yellow Butterfly (Manmohan Ghose Poems)
Of all shy visitants, I loveThat darling butterfly,Whose wings are to the cornfield's waveA hovering reply,Yellow as dancing wheat-ears ripeHe ...
The Kalevala – Rune XIX (Elias Lonnrot Poems)
ILMARINEN'S WOOING.ILMARINEN, hero-blacksmith,The eternal metal-worker,Hastens forward to the court-roomOf the hostess of Pohyola,Of the master of the Northland,Hastens through the ...
The Kalevala – Rune XXXI (Elias Lonnrot Poems)
KULLERWOINEN SON OF EVIL.In the ancient times a motherHatched and raised some swans and chickens,Placed the chickens in the brushwood,Placed ...
Words In The Night (George MacDonald Poems)
I woke at midnight, and my heart,My beating heart, said this to me:Thou seest the moon, how calm and bright!The ...
The Little Cripple’s Complaint (Ann Taylor Poems)
I'm a helpless cripple child, Gentle Christians, pity me; Once, in rosy health I smiled, Blithe and gay as you ...
Isabella or The Pot of Basil (John Keats Poem)
I. Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel! Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye! They could not in the self-same mansion ...
Reflections On Having Left A Place Of Retirement (Samuel Coleridge Poem)
Low was our pretty Cot : our tallest Rose Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear At silent noon, and ...
The Little Cripple’s Complaint (Ann Taylor Poems)
I'm a helpless cripple child, Gentle Christians, pity me; Once, in rosy health I smiled, Blithe and gay as you ...
I Arise From Dreams Of Thee (Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems)
I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And ...
The Indian Serenade (Percy Bysshe Shelley Poems)
I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And ...