Spring, by William Blake
Sound the flute!
Now it's mute!
Bird's deligh...
Crow Poems
The Women of Yueh, by Li Bai
I She is a southern girl of Chang-kan Town;
...
Georgic I, by Virgil
Whence joyful harvests spring, what heav'nly s...
Tell Me, Why, My Sweetest Dove, by Anacreon
Tell me, why, my sweetest dove,
Thus your h...
Alba, by Antarah ibn Shaddad
The poets have muddled all the little fountains...
Against the Desire of Worldly Things, by Bhartrhari
Envy possesses those that know,
Great men are...
Hymn to Apollo, by Callimachus
What force, what sudden impulse thus can make
...
A Fable, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Some cawing Crows, a hooting Owl,
A Hawk, a...
The Death of Yazdagird, by Ferdowsi
From the Shahnameh There was a paladin, a Tur...
A Last Tryst, by Florence Peacock
A knight lies slain by the southern ford,
The...
A Rondeau by a Bookman, by Francis Howard Williams
In fallow fields I long to lie--
A bookman los...
The Crow, by G. K. Thomas
I hear your repeated syllable
of loneliness a...
Autumn, by Isaac McLellan
Now in the fading woods, the Autumn blast
Cha...
Nature's Invitation, by Isaac McLellan
O'er the fair face of Nature let us muse,
And...
The Whale, by Isaac McLellan
Sailing across the lonely seas,
Sailing acros...
The Crow, by John Burroughs
I My friend and neighbor through the year,
S...
Straw-Death, by Kenneth Rand
I who have lived my life,
My years of hot-blo...
Waking the Child, by Phil Boiarski
In the dream, walking August pasture:
Gold b...
Sunday Best, by Raina Morreau
I found my shade of lipstick
and it was
Brig...
The Two Villages, by Rose Terry Cooke
Over the river, on the hill,
Lieth a village...
Horatius, by Thomas Babington Macaulay
A Lay Made about the Year of the City CCCLX I ...
The Rape of Lucrece, by William Shakespeare
FROM the besieged Ardea all in post,
...
Will V-Day Be Me-Day Too?, by Langston Hughes
Over There, World War II...