Poem Lake | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Fairy Days Beside the old hall-fire—upon my nurse’s knee, Of happy fairy days—what tales were told to me! I thought the world was once—all peopled with princesses, And my heart would beat to hear—their loves and their distresses; And many a quiet night—in slumber sweet and... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray	Peg of Limavaddy Riding from Coleraine (Famed for lovely Kitty), Came a Cockney bound Unto Derby city; Weary was his soul, Shivering and sad, he Bumped along the road Leads to Limavaddy. Mountains stretched around, Gloomy was... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray	The Garret With pensive eyes the little room I view, Where, in my youth, I weathered it so long; With a wild mistress, a stanch friend or two, And a light heart still breaking into song: Making a mock of life, and all its cares, Rich in the glory of my rising... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray	The Cane-Bottomed Chair In tattered old slippers that toast at the bars, And a ragged old jacket perfumed with cigars, Away from the world and its toils and its cares, I ’ve a snug little kingdom up four pair of stairs. To mount to this realm is a toil, to be sure, But the fire... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray
The Mahogany-Tree Christmas is here; Winds whistle shrill, Icy and chill, Little care we; Little we fear Weather without, Sheltered about The mahogany-tree. Once on the boughs Birds of rare plume Sang, in its bloom; Night-... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray	The Ballad of Bouillabaisse A Street there is in Paris famous, For which no rhyme our language yields, Rue Neuve des Petits Champs its name is— The New Street of the Little Fields; And there ’s an inn, not rich and splendid, But still in comfortable case— The which in... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray	At the Church-Gate Although I enter not, Yet round about the spot Ofttimes I hover; And near the sacred gate With longing eyes I wait, Expectant of her. The minster bell tolls out Above the city’s rout, And noise and humming; ... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray	The Age of Wisdom Ho! pretty page, with the dimpled chin, That never has known the barber’s shear, All your wish is woman to win; This is the way that boys begin,— Wait till you come to forty year. Curly gold locks cover foolish brains; Billing and cooing is... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray
The End of the Play The Play is done,—the curtain drops, Slow falling to the prompter’s bell; A moment yet the actor stops, And looks around, to say farewell. It is an irksome word and task; And, when he ’s laughed and said his say, He shows, as he removes the... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray	Sorrows of Werther Werther had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter. Charlotte was a married lady, And a moral man was Werther, And for all the wealth of Indies ... Poet: William Makepeace Thackeray