Drunk, by D. H. Lawrence
Too far away, oh love, I know,
To save me f...
Horse Poems
Come Rhiannon, by Julie Rutherford
Come Rhiannon
forget, the blackbirds
...
A Farewell Ode, by Du Fu
The world is full of battle.
Why wilt thou rid...
The Tatar Horse, by Du Fu
A Tatar horse from Derbend, all slimness, mus...
Yo-Yang Tower, by Du Fu
Long since the fame of Tung-ting Lake I knew.
...
How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix, by Robert Browning
I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
...
Incident of the French Camp, by Robert Browning
You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:
A mile...
My Last Duchess, by Robert Browning
FERRARA That's my last Duchess painted on the ...
The Apollo Trio, by Conrad Aiken
From acting profile parts in the "legit, "
He ...
Afternoon Rain in State Street, by Amy Lowell
Cross-hatchings of rain against grey walls,
S...
The Cremona Violin, by Amy Lowell
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut t...
The Exeter Road, by Amy Lowell
Panels of claret and blue which shine
Under th...
The Fool Errant, by Amy Lowell
The Fool Errant sat by the highway of life
&nb...
Funeral Song for the Indian Chief Blackbird, by Amy Lowell
BURIED SITTING UPRIGHT ON A LIVE HORSE ON A BLU...
The Hammers, by Amy Lowell
I Frindsbury, Kent, 1786 Bang!
Bang!
Tap!...
The Ring and the Castle, by Amy Lowell
"BENJAMIN BAILEY, Benjamin Bailey, why do you...
Roads, by Amy Lowell
I know a country laced with roads,
They join ...
A Tale of Starvation, by Amy Lowell
There once was a man whom the gods didn't love,...
A Winter Ride, by Amy Lowell
Who shall declare the joy of the running!
Who ...
The Childless Father, by William Wordsworth
"Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
N...
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 ...
A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and Crags, by William Wordsworth
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A ...
The Old Cumberland Beggar, by William Wordsworth
I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
And he was s...