Poem Lake | Page 3 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Still Though the One I Sing Still though the one I sing, (One, yet of contradictions made) I dedicate to Nationality, I leave in him revolt, (O latent right of insurrection! O quenchless, indispensable fire!) Poet: Walt Whitman	In the Still, Star-Lit Night in the still, star-lit night, By the full fountain and the willow-tree, I walked, and not alone— A spirit walked with me! A shade fell on the grass; Upon the water fell a deeper shade: Something the willow stirred, For to and fro... Poet: Elizabeth Stoddard	Song: “Love still has something” Love still has something of the sea, From whence his Mother rose; No time his slaves from love can free, Nor give their thoughts repose. They are becalmed in clearest days, And in rough weather tost; They wither under cold delays,... Poet: Sir Charles Sedley	I Hold Still Anonymous translation from the German PAIN’S furnace heat within me quivers, God’s breath upon the flame doth blow, And all my heart in anguish shivers, And trembles at the fiery glow: And yet I whisper, As God will! And in his hottest fire... Poet: Julius Sturm
A Still Day in Autumn I Love to wander through the woodlands hoary In the soft light of an autumnal day, When Summer gathers up her robes of glory, And like a dream of beauty glides away. How through each loved, familiar path she lingers, Serenely smiling through the... Poet: Sarah Helen Power Whitman	Bind me — I still can sing — Bind me — I still can sing — Banish — my mandolin Strikes true within — Slay — and my Soul shall rise Chanting to Paradise — Still thine. Poet:	How still the Bells in Steeples stand How still the Bells in Steeples stand Till swollen with the Sky They leap upon their silver Feet In frantic Melody! Poet:	Not seeing, still we know — Not seeing, still we know — Not knowing, guess — Not guessing, smile and hide And half caress — And quake — and turn away, Seraphic fear — Is Eden's innuendo "If you dare"? Poet:
Precious to Me — She still shall be — Precious to Me — She still shall be — Though She forget the name I bear — The fashion of the Gown I wear — The very Color of My Hair — So like the Meadows — now — I dared to show a Tress of Theirs If... Poet:	Still own thee — still thou art Still own thee — still thou art What surgeons call alive — Though slipping — slipping I perceive To thy reportless Grave — Which question shall I clutch — What answer wrest from thee Before thou dost... Poet: