Monadnoc, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thousand minstrels woke within me,
'Our music...
Fox Poems
Woodnotes I, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
1 When the pine tosses its cones
To the song ...
Wild Grapes, by Robert Frost
What tree may not the fig be gathered from?
T...
An Old Man's Thought of School, by Walt Whitman
[For the Inauguration of a Public School, Camd...
Fidelity, by William Wordsworth
A barking sound the Shepherd hears,
A cry as ...
The Idle Shepherd-Boys; or, Dungeon-Ghyll Force, by William Wordsworth
The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among th...
The Arrival, by Alfred Tennyson
1 All precious things, discover'd late,
To...
Pelleas and Ettarre, by Alfred Tennyson
King Arthur made new knights to fill the gap
L...
White Witchcraft, by Robert Browning
IF you and I could change to beasts, what beas...
Fidelity, by William Wordsworth
A barking sound the Shepherd hears,
A cry as ...
The Idle Shepherd-Boys; or, Dungeon-Ghyll Force, by William Wordsworth
The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among th...
An Arctic Vision, by Bret Harte
Where the short-legged Eskimo
Waddle in the ic...
The Naturalist, by Edith Matilda Thomas
He bides at home, and treasures all
That to h...
King Robert of Sicily, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane
And ...
Squirrels, by Isaac McLellan
When soft May breezes fan th' awaking woods,
...
Wildcat, by Isaac McLellan
Amid the wildernesses vast
That gird the Missi...
Winter Sports, by Isaac McLellan
Slow sinks the golden sun behind the woods,
T...
Adventures with Bears, by James McIntyre
I bought of land two miles square,
I knew not...
Snow-Birds, by John Burroughs
From out the white and pulsing storm
I hear th...
Indian Mascot, by Joshua Knight
Filling in for an absent teacher
at a middle s...
The Battle of Naseby, by Thomas Babington Macaulay
Oh! Wherefore come ye forth in triumph from the...
Ghosts, by William H. Simpson
Ghosts of the early earth!
The sly coyote know...
The Golden Years, by Billy Collins
All I do these drawn-out days
is sit in my kit...
Wilderness, by Carl Sandburg
There is a wolf in me … fangs pointed for teari...