Beechenbrook – IV (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
"I am weary and worn,--I am hungry and chill, And cuttingly strikes the keen blast o'er the hill; All day I have ...
Poems about shoeless (14 Poems)
The Fairies (Gerard Addington D Arcy Irvine Poems)
IAs I lay sleeping yesternight,The fairies came to me ;The moon, full-orb'd, gave ample light,Enabling me to seeThe little, green-clad, ...
Red Stockin (John Hartley Poems)
Shoo wor shoeless, an shiverin, an weet,-- Her hair flyin tangled an wild:Shoo'd just been browt in aght o'th street, Wi drink ...
One of the Least of These (Hattie Howard Poems)
'Twas on a day of cold and sleet, A little nomad of the street With tattered garments, shoeless feet, And face with hunger ...
The Emigrant Lassie (John Stuart Blackie Poems)
As I came wandering down Glen Spean, Where the braes are green and grassy,With my light step I overtook A weary-footed lassie.She ...
The Gipsy’s Camp (John Clare Poems)
How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp,My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp,Where the real effigy of ...
The Bivouac In The Snow (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
Halt!—the march is over, Day is almost done;Loose the cumbrous knapsack, Drop the heavy gun.Chilled and wet and weary, Wander to and fro,Seeking ...
The Kalevala – Rune XXXII (Elias Lonnrot Poems)
KULLERVO AS A SHEPHERD.Kullerwoinen, wizard-servantOf the blacksmith, Ilmarinen,Purchased slave from Untamoinen,Magic son with sky-blue stockings.,With a head of golden ringlets,In ...
King Gin (Edward Youl Poems)
I. A palace, and a king within;- Hail, potent monarch! Hail, King Gin! Open stands his palace door; Ready access ...
Outcast (Ada Cambridge Poems)
Perchance for dear Life's sake—and life is sweet— When work had failed and roads were deep in snow, And this ...
Friday Night At The Royal Station Hotel (Philip Larkin Poem)
Light spreads darkly downwards from the high Clusters of lights over empty chairs That face each other, coloured differently. Through ...
The Native-Born (Rudyard Kipling Poem)
We've drunk to the Queen -- God bless her! -- We've drunk to our mothers' land; We've drunk to our ...
Brother of All, with Generous Hand. (Walt Whitman Poems)
1 BROTHER of all, with generous hand, Of thee, pondering on thee, as o'er thy tomb, I and my Soul, ...
The Last Parade (Andrew Barton Paterson Poems)
With never a sound of trumpet, With never a flag displayed, The last of the old campaigners Lined up for ...