Each and All, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked ...
Horse Poems
Fate, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Deep in the man sits fast his fate
To mould hi...
Ode Inscribed to W. H. Channing, by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Though loath to grieve
The evil time's sole pa...
The Axe-Helve, by Robert Frost
I've known ere now an interfering branch
Of al...
The Fear, by Robert Frost
A LANTERN light from deeper in the barn
Shone ...
New Hampshire, by Robert Frost
I met a lady from the South who said
(You won'...
The Pauper Witch of Grafton, by Robert Frost
NOW that they've got it settled whose I be,
I...
A Star in a Stone-Boat, by Robert Frost
(For Lincoln MacVeagh) NEVER tell me that not ...
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost
WHOSE woods these are I think I know.
His hous...
A Time to Talk, by Robert Frost
WHEN a friend calls to me from the road
And sl...
Lover's Complaint , by William Shakespeare
FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded
A ...
Sonnet 51: Thus Can My Love Excuse The Slow Offence , by William Shakespeare
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my ...
Sonnet 91: Some Glory In Their Birth, Some In Their Skill , by William Shakespeare
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill...
Sonnet Li , by William Shakespeare
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my...
Sonnet Xci , by William Shakespeare
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill...
Preludes, by T. S. Eliot
I The winter evening settles down
With smell ...
I Sing the Body Electric, by Walt Whitman
1 I sing the body electric,
The armies of t...
The Return of the Heroes, by Walt Whitman
1 For the lands and for these passionate days...
Salut au Monde!, by Walt Whitman
1 O take my hand Walt Whitman!
Such gliding ...
Song of Myself, by Walt Whitman
1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And...
The Childless Father, by William Wordsworth
"Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
N...
Descriptive Sketches Taken During a Pedestrian Tour Among the Alps, by William Wordsworth
Were there, below, a spot of holy ground
Whe...
An Evening Walk, by William Wordsworth
Far from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
...
Guilt and Sorrow; or, Incidents Upon Salisbury Plain, by William Wordsworth
I A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
...
The Idiot Boy, by William Wordsworth
'Tis eight o'clock, a clear March night,
The ...