English Poems – Page 120

More English Poems

• Little Orphant Annie

  Little orphant Annie ’s come to our house to stay,
  An’ wash the cups and saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away,
  An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep, …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• Dwainie

  Ay, dwainie!—my Dwainie!
  The lurloo ever sings,
  A tremor in his flossy crest …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• Honey Dripping from the Comb

  How slight a thing may set one’s fancy drifting
  Upon the dead sea of the Past!—A view—
  Sometimes an odor—or a rooster lifting …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• A Man

  A man by the name of Bolus—(all ’at we ’ll ever know
  Of the stranger’s name, I reckon—and I ’m kindo’ glad it ’s so!)—
  Got off here, Christmas morning, looked ’round the town, and then …

  the Name of Bolus

• Longfellow

  The winds have talked with him confidingly;
  The trees have whispered to him; and the night
  Hath held him gently as a mother might, …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• Love's Prayer

  Dear lord! kind Lord!
  Gracious Lord! I pray
  Thou wilt look on all I love, …

  James Whitcomb Riley

• The Garden Where There Is No Winter

  “se dio ti lasci, lettor, prender frutto
  Di tua lezione.”

  Louis James Block

• Tuberose

  Flower, that I hold in my hand,
  Waxen and white and unwoful,
  Perfect with your race’s lovely perfection, …

  Louis James Block

• Fate

  Three steps and I reach the door,
  But a whole month rolls between
  Since last I stood before …

  Louis James Block

• Work

  Ah, blessedness of work! the aimless mind,
  Left to pursue at will its fancies wild,
  Returns at length, like some play-wearied child, …

  Louis James Block

• To Demeter

  Thou ever young! Persephone but gazes
  Upon thy face, and shows thee back thine own;
  And every flock that on thy hillsides grazes, …

  Maybury Fleming

• What Though the Green Leaf Grow?

  What though the green leaf grow?
  ’T will last a month and day;
  In all sweet flowers that blow …

  Maybury Fleming

• Song, Youth, and Sorrow

  Lofty against our Western dawn uprises Achilles:
  He among heroes alone singeth or toucheth the lyre.
  Few, and dimmed by grief, are the days that to him are appointed! …

  William Cranston Lawton

• My Fatherland

  The imperial boy had fallen in his pride
  Before the gates of golden Babylon.
  The host, who deemed that priceless treasure won, …

  William Cranston Lawton

• The Heaviest Cross of All

  I ’ve borne full many a sorrow, I ’ve suffered many a loss—
  But now, with a strange, new anguish, I carry this last dread cross;
  For of this be sure, my dearest, whatever thy life befall, …

  Katherine Eleanor Conway

• Saturninus

  He might have won the highest guerdon that heaven to earth can give,
  For whoso falleth for justice—dying, he yet shall live.
  He might have left us his memory to flame as a beacon light, …

  Katherine Eleanor Conway

• De Fust Banjo

  Go ’way, fiddle! folks is tired o’ hearin’ you a-squawkin’.
  Keep silence fur yo’ betters!—don’t you heah de banjo talkin’?
  About de ’possum’s tail she ’s gwine to lecter—ladies, listen!— …

  Irwin Russell

• From the "Book of Day-Dreams"

  Soul unto SOUL GLOOMS DARKLING
  DISGUISE upon disguise, and then disguise,
  Equivocations at the rose’s heart, …

  Charles Leonard Moore

• The Betrayal of the Rose

  A white rose had a sorrow—
  And a strange sorrow!
  For her sisters they had none, …

  Edith Matilda Thomas

• The Tears of the Poplars

  Hath not the dark stream closed above thy head,
  With envy of thy light, thou shining one?
  Hast thou not, murmuring, made thy dreamless bed …

  Edith Matilda Thomas

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