The Burial of the Dead, by T. S. Eliot
APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs...
Cricket Poems
The Death of the Old Year, by Alfred Tennyson
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the ...
A Dirge, by Alfred Tennyson
1 Now is done thy long day's work;
Fold thy...
Lancelot and Elaine, by Alfred Tennyson
Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine...
Merlin and Vivien, by Alfred Tennyson
A storm was coming, but the winds were still, ...
'T Was Later When the Summer Went, by Emily Dickinson
'T WAS later when the summer went
Than when th...
A Tale, by Robert Browning
What a pretty tale you told me
Once upon a tim...
A Toccata of Galuppi's, by Robert Browning
Oh Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to f...
Sword Blades and Poppy Seed, by Amy Lowell
A drifting, April, twilight sky,
A wind whi...
Thou Hast Thy Calling to Some Palace-Floor, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,
M...
Waifs and Strays, by Arthur Rimbaud
BLACK in the fog and in the snow,
Where the g...
The Cricket's Song, by Francis Jammes
LAST night the cricket sang when all was still....
You Would Be Naked, by Francis Jammes
You would be naked on the wet and pink heather,...
A Summer Night, by Andrew Downing
The warm, long day is ended,
The cooler nigh...
An Autumn Cricket, by Clinton Scollard
In the warm hush of the autumnal night
I list ...
Spectrum of Mrs. Q, by Marjorie Allen Seiffert
Fear not, beautiful lady,
That I shall ravis...
Song of the Cricket, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman
When the Summer moonlight evening, weird, fan...
Fight, by Percy MacKaye
The Tale of a Gunner at the Battle of Plattsbur...
Under the Sands, by Rosa Vertner Jeffrey
Suggested by a notice of Sir Douglas Forsyth's ...
On Collamer Hills, by Sarah Knowles Bolton
Tree-covered hills, crossed by a deep ravine; ...
Evening, by Watie W. Swanzy
After the turmoil and heat of the day,
Comes ...
The Lake Isle of Innisfree, by William Butler Yeats
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,An...