English Poems – Page 119

More English Poems

• Her Picture

  Autumn was cold in Plymouth town;
  The wind ran round the shore,
  Now softly passing up and down, …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• On Kingston Bridge

  On kingston Bridge the starlight shone
  Through hurrying mists in shrouded glow;
  The boding night-wind made its moan, …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• So Wags the World

  Memory cannot linger long,
  Joy must die the death.
  Hope’s like a little silver song …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• Praise-God Barebones

  I and my cousin Wildair met
  And tossed a pot together;—
  Burnt sack it was that Molly brewed, …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• Pamela in Town

  the fair Pamela came to town,
  To London town, in early summer;
  And up and down and round about …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• April Fantasie

  The fresh, bright bloom of the daffodils
  Makes gold in the garden bed,
  Gold that is like the sunbeams …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• Quaker Ladies

  More shy than the shy violet,
  Hiding when the wind doth pass,
  Nestled in the nodding grass, …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• The Bride's Toilette

  “dame, how the moments go—
  And the bride is not ready!
  Call all her tiring maids, …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• A Cry from the Shore

  Come down, ye graybeard mariners,
  Unto the wasting shore!
  The morning winds are up,—the gods …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• Sea-Way

  The tide slips up the silver sand,
  Dark night and rosy day;
  It brings sea-treasures to the land, …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• Harvest

  Sweet, sweet, sweet,
  Is the wind’s song,
  Astir in the rippled wheat …

  Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

• Uncle Gabe's White Folks

  Sarvent, marster! Yes, sah, dat ’s me—
  Ole Unc’ Gabe ’s my name;
  I thankee, Marster, I ’m ’bout, yo’ see. …

  Thomas Nelson Page

• Ashcake

  Well, yes, sir, dat am a comical name—
  It are so, for a fac’—
  But I knowed one, down in Ferginyer, …

  Thomas Nelson Page

• When She Comes Home

  When she comes home again! A thousand ways
  I fashion, to myself, the tenderness
  Of my glad welcome: I shall tremble—yes; …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• The Old Man and Jim

  Old man never had much to say—
  ’Ceptin’ to Jim,—
  And Jim was the wildest boy he had, …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• A Life-Lesson

  There! little girl, don’t cry!
  They have broken your doll, I know;
  And your tea-set blue, …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• The Way the Baby Woke

  And this is the way the baby woke:
  As when in deepest drops of dew
  The shine and shadows sink and soak, …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• The Way the Baby Slept

  This is the way the baby slept:
  A mist of tresses backward thrown
  By quavering sighs where kisses crept …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• Ike Walton's Prayer

  I crave, dear Lord,
  No boundless hoard
  Of gold and gear, …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• On the Death of Little Mahala Ashcraft

  “little haly! Little Haly!” cheeps the robin in the tree;
  “Little Haly!” sighs the clover, “Little Haly!” moans the bee;
  “Little Haly! Little Haly!” calls the kill-deer at twilight; …

  James Whitcomb Riley

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