Oliver Wendell Holmes

(1809-1894 / United States)

Oliver Wendell Holmes Poems

161. My Annual 4/6/2010
162. My Aunt 4/6/2010
163. My Aviary 12/31/2002
164. Near The Snow-Line 4/6/2010
165. Never Or Now 4/6/2010
166. No Time Like The Old Time 4/6/2010
167. Non-Resistance 4/6/2010
168. Nux Postcoenatica 4/6/2010
169. Ode For A Social Meeting 4/6/2010
170. Ode For Washington’s Birthday 4/6/2010
171. Old Cambridge 4/6/2010
172. Old Ironsides 1/1/2004
173. On Lending A Punch-Bowl 4/6/2010
174. On The Death Of President Garfield 4/6/2010
175. On The Threshold 4/6/2010
176. Once More 4/6/2010
177. One Country 4/6/2010
178. Opening The Window 4/6/2010
179. Our Banker 4/6/2010
180. Our Dead Singer 4/6/2010
181. Our Home—our Country 4/6/2010
182. Our Indian Summer 4/6/2010
183. Our Limitations 4/6/2010
184. Our Oldest Friend 4/6/2010
185. Our Sweet Singer 4/6/2010
186. Our Yankee Girls 4/6/2010
187. Parson Turell’s Legacy 4/6/2010
188. Parting Hymn 4/6/2010
189. Poem (Halleck Monument Dedication) 12/31/2002
190. Poem At The Centennial Anniversary Dinner Of The Massachusetts Medical Society 4/6/2010
191. Poem For The Dedication Of The Fountain At Stratford-On-Avon 4/6/2010
192. Poem For The Two Hundred And Fiftieth Anniversary Of The Founding Of Harvard College 4/6/2010
193. Poem Read At The Dinner Given To The Author By The Medical Profession Of The City Of New York, April 12, 1883 4/6/2010
194. Poetry: A Metrical Essay, Read Before The Phi Beta Kappa Society, Harvard 4/6/2010
195. Post-Prandial 4/6/2010
196. Prelude To A Volume Printed In Raised Letters For The Blind 4/6/2010
197. Programme 4/6/2010
198. Prologue 4/6/2010
199. Questions And Answers 4/6/2010
200. Reflections Of A Proud Pedestrian 4/6/2010
Best Poem of Oliver Wendell Holmes

A Familiar Letter

YES, write, if you want to, there's nothing like trying;
Who knows what a treasure your casket may hold?
I'll show you that rhyming's as easy as lying,
If you'll listen to me while the art I unfold.

Here's a book full of words; one can choose as he fancies,
As a painter his tint, as a workman his tool;
Just think! all the poems and plays and romances
Were drawn out of this, like the fish from a pool!

You can wander at will through its syllabled mazes,
And take all you want, not a copper they cost,--
What is...

Read the full of A Familiar Letter

The Last Leaf

I saw him once before,
As he passed by the door,
And again
The pavement stones resound,
As he totters o'er the ground
With his cane.

They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time

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