The Witch's Daughter, by John Greenleaf Whittier
It was the pleasant harvest time,
When cellar...
School Poems
Taking the Train of Singularity South from Midtown, by John J. Ronan
42nd St. As the funnel of everyone in Times Sq...
Desert Song, by Joseph Aprile
From Impaled on Times Illustrious Arrow My ey...
Circus Clown, by Joshua Knight
Just saw a preview for the movie,
Yes, wher...
Indian Mascot, by Joshua Knight
Filling in for an absent teacher
at a middle s...
Fisher of Stars, by Lew Sarett
My wild blood leaped as I watched the falling s...
Flor Del Espiritu Santo, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman
Loitering, midst the tropic glory of a large c...
Somebody's Mother, by Mary Dow Brine
The woman was old and ragged and gray,
And be...
The Sweet June Time, by Mary Dow Brine
The daisies and the buttercups
Now merrily are...
Laurels and Immortelles, by Mary T. Lathrap
To the memory of Charles D. McNaughten. He has...
Retrospection, by Mary T. Lathrap
Detroit, March 1, 1862. Standing by the scho...
Paula's Bowl, by Myra Schneider
From Circling The Core (Enitharmon Press 2008) ...
The Casino Theater, by Robert Birch
From The Echo of Applause It was not much of a...
Home Thoughts, by S. Moore
I love to think of the dear old home--
For my ...
The Horse, by S. Moore
The noble horse, but, oh! How oft the poor
I...
The Irish Heart, by S. Moore
Some people think the Irish mind
Is rough, an...
Recollections of Irish Scenery, by S. Moore
Lough Erne beautiful and bright,
Thou still a...
Mary's Lamb, by Sarah Josepha Hale
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white ...
Spring, by Sarah Josepha Hale
The pleasant Spring has come again,
The prett...
War Hero, by Sean Barnett
When we got off the plane-
After a year in Ira...
God's Counsel, by Sophocles
I know that God is ever such as this,
Darkly ...
Whirlwind, by Til Turner
June sweat meandered down my brow
as I daydrea...
The Rape of Lucrece, by William Shakespeare
FROM the besieged Ardea all in post,
...
Adam's Curse, by William Butler Yeats
We sat together at one summer's end,
That beaut...
Sailing to Byzantium, by William Butler Yeats
That is no country for old men. The youngIn one...