Sonnet — to Science, by Edgar Allan Poe
Science! True daughter of Old Time thou art!
...
Car Poems
A Star in a Stone-Boat, by Robert Frost
(For Lincoln MacVeagh) NEVER tell me that not ...
Sonnet 7: Lo In The Orient When The Gracious Light , by William Shakespeare
Lo in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts ...
Sonnet Vii , by William Shakespeare
Lo! In the orient when the gracious light
Lift...
The Procreation Sonnets , by William Shakespeare
I
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
...
A Game of Chess, by T. S. Eliot
THE Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,...
Miracles, by Walt Whitman
Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I ...
Song of Myself, by Walt Whitman
1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And...
Beggars, by William Wordsworth
She had a tall man's height or more;
Her face...
The Blind Highland Boy, by William Wordsworth
Now we are tired of boisterous joy,
Have romp...
The Waggoner, by William Wordsworth
Canto the First 'Tis spentthis burning day of ...
Letter from Town: On a Grey Evening in March, by D. H. Lawrence
THE clouds are pushing in grey reluctance slowl...
Perfidy, by D. H. Lawrence
HOLLOW rang the house when I knocked on the doo...
Week-Night Service, by D. H. Lawrence
THE five old bells
Are hurrying and eagerly ca...
Steel-Mills: South Chicago, by Maxwell Bodenheim
I This red hush toppling over the sky,
Wande...
On Berenice's Hair, by Catullus
Conon, who hath observed the mighty skies,
W...
Beggars, by William Wordsworth
She had a tall man's height or more;
Her face...
The Blind Highland Boy, by William Wordsworth
Now we are tired of boisterous joy,
Have romp...
The Waggoner, by William Wordsworth
Canto the First 'Tis spentthis burning day of ...
To Summer, by William Blake
O thou who passest thro' our valleys in
Thy st...
To Winter, by William Blake
O Winter! Bar thine adamantine doors:
The nor...
Kwok Lun: A Forgotten Knight of Old, by Su Shi
A warrior bold,
In Ho Sai old;
Alas! But no...
the summer begins with snakes, by Ray Heinrich
on saturday
in the basement
opening
the doo...
Georgic I, by Virgil
Whence joyful harvests spring, what heav'nly s...
Georgic III, by Virgil
Thee too, great Pales, will I hymn, and thee...