Poem Lake | Page 5 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Threnody The south-wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire; But over the dead he has no power, The lost, the lost, he cannot restore; And, looking over the hills, I mourn The darling who shall not... Poet: Ralph Waldo Emerson	Concord Hymn By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And... Poet: Ralph Waldo Emerson	Ode O tenderly the haughty day Fills his blue urn with fire; One morn is in the mighty heaven, And one in our desire. The cannon booms from town to town, Our pulses beat not less, The joy-bells chime their tidings down, Which children... Poet: Ralph Waldo Emerson	The Test I hung my verses in the wind, Time and tide their faults may find. All were winnowed through and through, Five lines lasted sound and true; Five were smelted in a pot Than the South more fierce and hot; These the siroc could not melt, Fire... Poet: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Hymn to the Night I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o’er me from above; The calm, majestic... Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow	A Psalm of Life Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!— For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, ... Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow	The Skeleton in Armor “speak! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me?” Then... Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow	The Village Blacksmith Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face... Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Endymion The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between. And silver white the river gleams, As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow ... Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow	Serenade from "The Spanish Student" Stars of the summer night! Far in yon azure deeps, Hide, hide your golden light! She sleeps! My lady sleeps! Sleeps! Moon of the summer night! Far down yon western steeps, Sink, sink in silver light! ... Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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