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The Dead Babe by Eugene Field.
Last night, as my dear babe lay dead,In agony I knelt and said:"0 God! what have I done,Or in what wise offended Thee,That Thou should'st take away from meMy little ... More poems about
Eugene Field.
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The Poet Pleads With The Elemental Powers by William Butler Yeats.
The Powers whose name and shape no living creature knowsHave pulled the Immortal Rose;And though the Seven Lights bowed in their dance and wept,The Polar Dragon slept,His heavy rings uncoiled ... More poems about
William Butler Yeats.
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A Cigarette Butt by Raymond A Foss.
It was the incongruitythe foreign color, out of placesand camouflage on the Humveemerging with me, on the city streetrimmed with dirty whitesnow piles, days after the stormHe was in the ... More poems about
Raymond A Foss.
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A Fence by Carl Sandburg.
NOW the stone house on the lake front is finished and theworkmen are beginning the fence.The palings are made of iron bars with steel points thatcan stab the life out ... More poems about
Carl Sandburg.
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The Junk Man by Carl Sandburg.
I AM glad God saw DeathAnd gave Death a job taking care of all who are tiredof living:When all the wheels in a clock are worn and slow andthe connections ... More poems about
Carl Sandburg.
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The Woodlark by Gerard Manley Hopkins.
Teevo cheevo cheevio chee:O where, what can th More poems about
Gerard Manley Hopkins.
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Behold My Servant by Raymond A Foss.
proclaiming creator – “Behold my servant here, now,doing what I will.”January 13, 2008 More poems about
Raymond A Foss.
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The Defence Of Guenevere by William Morris.
But, learning now that they would have her speak,She threw her wet hair backward from her brow,Her hand close to her mouth touching her cheek, As though she had had ... More poems about
William Morris.
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Lenore by Edgar Allan Poe.
Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!Let the bell toll!- a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river;And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?- weep now ... More poems about
Edgar Allan Poe.
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Sound, Sound The Clarion by Sir Walter Scott.
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!To all the sensual world proclaim,One crowded hour of glorious lifeIs worth an age without a name. More poems about
Sir Walter Scott.
