Poem Lake | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Lines to a Blind Girl Blind as the song of birds, Feeling its way into the heart, Or as a thought ere it hath words,— As blind thou art: Or as a little stream A dainty hand might guide apart, Or Love—young Love’s delicious dream— As blind thou art:... Poet: Thomas Buchanan Read	Lines to an Indian Air Serenade I Arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me—who knows how?— To... Poet: Percy Bysshe Shelley	Lines: “My prime of youth is but a frost of cares” [Written in the Tower, the night before his probably unjust execution for treason] MY prime of youth is but a frost of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of pain, My crop of corn is but a field of tares, And all my goodes is but vain hope of gain.... Poet: Chidiock Tichborne	Lines to the Memory of “Annie” Who Died at Milan, June 6, 1860 “Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him.” —JOHN xx. 15. IN the fair gardens of... Poet: Harriet Beecher Stowe
Lines found in his Bible in the Gate-house at Westminster E’en such is time; that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days: But from this earth, this... Poet: Sir Walter Raleigh	Lines to the Stormy Petrel The Lark sings for joy in her own loved land, In the furrowed field, by the breezes fanned; And so revel we In the furrowed sea, As joyous and glad as the lark can be. On the placid breast of the inland lake The wild duck delights... Poet: Anonymous	Lines Written in an Album [A farmer’s daughter, during the rage for albums, handed to the author an old account-book ruled for pounds, shillings, and pence, and requested a contribution.] THIS WORLD ’s a scene as dark as Styx, £ s. d. Where hope is scarce worth 2 6 Our joys are borne so... Poet: Willis Gaylord	Lines to Miss Florence Huntington Sweet maiden of Passamaquoddy, Shall we seek for communion of souls Where the deep Mississippi meanders, Or the distant Saskatchewan rolls? Ah no,—for in Maine I will find thee A sweetly sequestrated nook Where the far winding... Poet: Anonymous
Lines (Botta) Sing me that song again, That wild, impassioned lay; The tumult of my throbbing brain Thy voice shall charm away. Pour that harmonious flood ... Poet: