Threnody, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
The South-wind brings
Life, sunshine and desi...
Crow Poems
Dust of Snow, by Robert Frost
THE way of a crow
Shook down on me
The dust o...
A Servant to Servants, by Robert Frost
I DIDN'T make you know how glad I was
To have ...
Bridal Song , by William Shakespeare
ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not ro...
Sonnet 113: Since I Left You, Mine Eye Is In My Mind , by William Shakespeare
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind,
And...
Sonnet 70: That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect , by William Shakespeare
That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
...
Sonnet Cxiii , by William Shakespeare
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;
An...
Sonnet Lxx , by William Shakespeare
That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
...
The Phoenix And The Turtle , by William Shakespeare
Let the bird of loudest lay,
On the sole Arabi...
Song of Myself, by Walt Whitman
1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And...
There Was a Child Went Forth, by Walt Whitman
There was a child went forth every day,
And t...
Alice Fell; or, Poverty, by William Wordsworth
The post-boy drove with fierce career,
For th...
Descriptive Sketches Taken During a Pedestrian Tour Among the Alps, by William Wordsworth
Were there, below, a spot of holy ground
Whe...
The Farmer of Tilsbury Vale, by William Wordsworth
'Tis not for the unfeeling, the falsely refine...
The Idiot Boy, by William Wordsworth
'Tis eight o'clock, a clear March night,
The ...
Audley Court, by Alfred Tennyson
"The Bull, the Fleece are cramm'd, and not a ...
Locksley Hall, by Alfred Tennyson
Comrades, leave me here a little, while as ye...
Mariana, by Alfred Tennyson
"Mariana in the moated grange." --Measure for...
In Church, by D. H. Lawrence
IN the choir the boys are singing the hymn.
Th...
Come Rhiannon, by Julie Rutherford
Come Rhiannon
forget, the blackbirds
...
Is God In the Marshes?, by Julie Rutherford
On the marshes,
in the darkness,
before,
...
A Grammarian's Funeral, by Robert Browning
SHORTLY AFTER THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING IN EUROPE...
Alice Fell; or, Poverty, by William Wordsworth
The post-boy drove with fierce career,
For th...
The Farmer of Tilsbury Vale, by William Wordsworth
'Tis not for the unfeeling, the falsely refine...
The Idiot Boy, by William Wordsworth
'Tis eight o'clock, a clear March night,
The ...