Poem Lake | The Greatest Poems of All Time

On a Great Man Whose Mind Is Clouding That sovereign thought obscured? That vision clear Dimmed in the shadow of the sable wing, And fainter grown the fine interpreting Which as an oracle was ours to hear! Nay, but the Gods reclaim not from the seer Their gift,—although he ceases here to... Poet: Edmund Clarence Stedman	Snow beneath whose chilly softness Snow beneath whose chilly softness Some that never lay Make their first Repose this Winter I admonish Thee Blanket Wealthier the Neighbor We so new bestow Than thine acclimated Creature ... Poet:	There is a Zone whose even Years There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt — Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait — Whose Summer set in Summer, till The Centuries of June And Centuries of... Poet:	There was a Young Lady whose bonnet * * * There was a Young Lady whose bonnet, Came untied when the birds sate upon it; But she said: 'I don't care! All the birds in the air Are welcome to sit on my bonnet!'... Poet:
There was a Young Lady whose chin * * * There was a Young Lady whose chin, ... Poet:	There was a Young Lady whose eyes * * * There was a Young Lady whose eyes, Were unique as to colour and size; When she opened them wide, People all turned aside, And started away in surprise. <... Poet:	There was a Young Lady whose nose * * * There was a Young Lady whose nose, Was so long that it reached to her toes; So she hired an Old Lady, Whose conduct was... Poet:	There was an Old Man, on whose nose * * * There was an Old Man, on whose nose, Most birds of the air could repose; But they all flew away At the closing of day, Which relieved that Old Man and his nose. <Publ. 1846>... Poet:
There was an Old Person whose habits * * * There was an Old Person whose habits, Induced him to feed upon rabbits; ‎ When he'd eaten eighteen, ‎ He turned perfectly green, Upon which he relinquished those habits.... Poet:	Whose are the little beds, I asked Whose are the little beds, I asked Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others smiled — And no one made reply. Perhaps they did not hear, I said, I will inquire again — Whose are the... Poet: