Poem Lake | Page 3914 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Why — do they shut Me out of Heaven? Why — do they shut Me out of Heaven? Did I sing — too loud? But — I can say a little "Minor" Timid as a Bird! Wouldn't the Angels try me — Just — once — more — Just — see — if I troubled them —... Poet:	Why? (Dickinson) The murmur of a bee A witchcraft yieldeth me. If any ask me why, 'T were easier to die Than tell. The red upon the hill ... Poet:	The Widow at Her Daughter's Bridal DEAL gently, thou whose hand hath won The young bird from its nest away, Where, careless,'neath a vernal sun, She gayly carolled day by day; The haunt is lone, the heart must grieve, From where her... Poet:	Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile — the Winds — To a Heart in port — Done with the Compass — Done with the Chart! ... Poet:
Wild Notes from the Lyre of a Native Minstrel This is the joy-inspiring day That gave these blessings to our lot Then let us share the social rites Join hands, all malice be forgot! This little star, once marked by none Now shines a bright - a BLAZING SUN!... Poet:	Will there really be a "Morning"? Will there really be a "Morning"? Is there such a thing as "Day"? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they? Has it feet like Water lilies? Has it feathers like a Bird? Is it... Poet:	The Will ⁠BEFORE I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe, ⁠Great Love, some legacies; I here bequeath ⁠Mine eyes to... Poet:	William Cowper Esqre William Cowper Esq^re For this is being a Friend just in the nick Not when hes well but waiting till hes sick He calls you to his help be you not movd Untill by being Sick his wants are provd... Poet:
Willie Brew'd A Peck O' Maut O Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, And Rob and Allen cam to see; Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night, Ye wadna found in Christendie. Chorus.-We are na fou, we're nae that fou, But just a drappie in our... Poet:	The Wind's Message There came a whisper down the Bland between the dawn and dark, Above the tossing of the pines, above the river's flow; It stirred the boughs of giant gums and stalwart ironbark; It drifted where the wild ducks played amid the swamps below;... Poet: