English Poems – Page 68

More English Poems

• Slow Movement

  All those treasures that lie in the little bolted box whose tiny space is
  Mightier than the room of the stars, being secret and filled with dreams:
  All those treasures—I hold them in my hand—are straining continually …

  William Carlos Williams

• Postlude

  Now that I have cooled to you
  Let there be gold of tarnished masonry,
  Temples soothed by the sun to ruin …

  William Carlos Williams

• The Poet in the Desert

  I have come into the Desert because my soul is athirst as the Desert is athirst;
  My soul which is the soul of all; universal, not different.
  We are athirst for the waters which make beautiful the path …

  Charles Erskine Scott Wood

• On the Great Plateau

  In the Santa Clara Valley, far away and far away,
  Cool-breathed waters dip and dally, linger towards another day—
  Far and far away—far away. …

  Edith Wyatt

• Summer Hail

  Once the heavens’ gabled door
  Opened: down a stabled floor,
  Down the thunders, something galloped far and wide, …

  Edith Wyatt

• A City Afternoon

  Green afternoon serene and bright, along my street you sail away
  Sun-dappled like a ship of light that glints upon a rippled bay.
  Afar, freight-engines call and toll; the sprays flash on the fragrant grass; …

  Edith Wyatt

• Eutaw Springs

  At eutaw Springs the valiant died:
  Their limbs with dust are covered o’er;
  Weep on, ye springs, your tearful tide; …

  Philip Freneau

• Song of Thyrsis

  The turtle on yon withered bough,
  That lately mourned her murdered mate,
  Has found another comrade now— …

  Philip Freneau

• The Wild Honeysuckle

  Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,
  Hid in this silent, dull retreat,
  Untouched thy honied blossoms blow, …

  Philip Freneau

• The Indian Burying-Ground

  In spite of all the learned have said,
  I still my old opinion keep;
  The posture that we give the dead …

  Philip Freneau

• Death's Epitaph

  Death in this tomb his weary bones hath laid,
  Sick of dominion o’er the human kind;
  Behold what devastations he hath made, …

  Philip Freneau

• The Parting Glass

  The man that joins in life’s career
  And hopes to find some comfort here,
  To rise above this earthly mass,— …

  Philip Freneau

• On the Ruins of a Country Inn

  Where now these mingled ruins lie
  A temple once to Bacchus rose,
  Beneath whose roof, aspiring high, …

  Philip Freneau

• On a Travelling Speculator

  On scent of game from town to town he flew,
  The soldier’s curse pursued him on his way;
  Care in his eye, and anguish on his brow, …

  Philip Freneau

• The Scurrilous Scribe

  His soul extracted from the public sink,
  For discord born he splasht around his ink;
  In scandal foremost, as by scandal fed, …

  Philip Freneau

• To a Caty-Did

  in a branch of willow hid
  Sings the evening Caty-did:
  From the lofty-locust bough …

  Philip Freneau

• To a Honey Bee

  Thou, born to sip the lake or spring,
  Or quaff the waters of the stream,
  Why hither come, on vagrant wing? …

  Philip Freneau

• Plato to Theon

  The grandeur of this earthly round,
  Where Theon would forever be,
  Is but a name, is but a sound— …

  Philip Freneau

• The Yankee Man-of-War

  ’t is of a gallant Yankee ship that flew the stripes and stars,
  And the whistling wind from the west-nor’-west blew through the pitch-pine spars;
  With her starboard tacks aboard, my boys, she hung upon the gale; …

  Anonymous

• The Smooth Divine

  There smiled the smooth Divine, unused to wound
  The sinner’s heart with hell’s alarming sound.
  No terrors on his gentle tongue attend; …

  Timothy Dwight

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