The Gnat, by Carmen Sylva
A long-legged gnat with airy wings, a dart
Sh...
Worm Poems
Moths, by Eliza Allen Starr
An india shawl--of texture wondrous fair,
Wro...
One Hour After Death, by Eliza Allen Starr
For Mrs. W. H. November 15, 1857. O I could e...
Conversion, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I have lived this life as a skeptic lives it,
...
The Soul's Farewell to the Body, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
So we must part forever; and although
I long h...
Bellerophon, by Henry Abbey
There lives a creature of a dreamer's brain,
...
The Kingfish, by Isaac McLellan
Off where the slender light-house lifts,
Like...
Taking the Train of Singularity South from Midtown, by John J. Ronan
42nd St. As the funnel of everyone in Times Sq...
Geology Made Easy, by Katharine Lee Bates
I tell a tale which makes me pale
For its dism...
The Butterfly, by Martha Lavinia Hoffman
Butterfly, butterfly, where are you going?
D...
Coming Home, by May Riley Smith
I have come to the dear old threshold,
With e...
Sunset, by Mrs. O. M. Livingston
Ye sunset clouds like flakes of gold,
That fl...
The First Phebe, by Obadiah Cyrus Auringer
Sweet latest herald of the spring,
Fresh from...
Yesterday's Footprints, by Ric Masten
last summer whenever possible
my visiting gran...
On an Early Death, by Richard Chenevix Trench
Ah me! Of them from whom the good have hope,
...
On Perseus and Medusa, by Richard Chenevix Trench
On Benvenuto Cellini's sculpture of Perseus and...
Anno Domini 1869, by Rosa Vertner Jeffrey
"The night is far spent, the day is at hand."-...
The Ghost of Love, by Theophilus Marzials
The wan witch at the creepy midnight hour,
Wh...
Birds of Spring, by Watie W. Swanzy
Trooping o'er the meadows,
Chatter, chatter,...
The Show, by Wilfred Owen
My soul looked down from a vague height with De...
Beauty in the Grave, by William B. Tappan
On seeing an ancient picture of a beautiful lad...
What is Eternity?, by William B. Tappan
Go thou and mark the holy preacher's tones,
A...
The Rape of Lucrece, by William Shakespeare
FROM the besieged Ardea all in post,
...
The Tower, by William Butler Yeats
IWhat shall I do...