855 match(es) found in poems


Poem
For John, Who Begs Me Not To Enquire Further

Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
...
Anne Sexton

Frankie And Johnnie

Frankie and Johnnie were lovers,
O, my Gawd, how they could love,
...
Anonymous

Johnny

O the valley in the summer where I and my John
Beside the deep reiver would walk on and on
...
WH Auden

Over Sir John's Hill

Over Sir John's hill,
The hawk on fire hangs still;
...
Dylan Thomas

Small Conversation In The Afternoon With John Fante

he said, "I was working in Hollywood when Faulkner was
working in Hollywood and he was
...
Charles Bukowski

Johnny Armstrong

There dwelt a man in faire Westmerland
Ionne Armstrong men did him call
...
Anonymous Olde English

To John Donne

Donne, the delight of Phoebus and each Muse
Who, to thy one, all other brains refuse;
...
Ben Jonson

The Burial Of Sir John Moore At Corunna

Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
...
Charles Wolfe

I Am The Living Bread: Meditation Eight: John 6:51

I kening through Astronomy Divine
The Worlds bright Battlement, wherein I spy
...
Edward Taylor

No, Thank You John

I never said I loved you, John:
Why will you tease me day by day,
...
Christina Georgina Rossetti

To John Keats, Poet, At Spring Time

I cannot hold my peace, John Keats;
There never was a spring like this;
...
Countee Cullen

John Barleycorn: A Ballad

There was three kings unto the east,
Three kings both great and high,
...
Robert Burns

The Story Of Johnny Head-In-Air

As he trudged along to school,
It was always Johnny's rule
...
Heinrich Hoffmann

Bells For John Whiteside's Daughter

There was such speed in her little body,
And such lightness in her footfall,
...
John Crowe Ransom

John Anderson My Jo

John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
...
Robert Burns

John Mouldy

I spied John Mouldy in his celler,
Deep down twenty steps of stone;
...
Walter de la Mare

John Adams Monarchical Ideas

SIR:- You complain that I have asserted that a partiality for monarchy appeared in your conduct. This fact you deny, and entreat me to bring forward t ...
Mercy Warren

For John Clare

Kind of empty in the way it sees everything, the earth gets to its feet andsalutes the sky. More of a success at it this time than most others it is. The feeling that the sky might be in the back of someone's mind. Then there is no telling how many there are. They grace everything--bush and tree--to take the roisterer's mind off his caroling--so it's like a smooth switch back. To what was aired in their previous conniption fit. There is so much to be seen everywhere that it's like not getting used to it, only there is so much it never feels new, never any different. You are standing looking at that building and you cannot take it all in, certain details are already hazy and the mind boggles. What will it all be like in five years' time when you try to remember? Will there have been boards in between the grass part and the edge of the street? As long as that couple is stopping to look in that window over there we cannot go. We feel like they have to tell us we can, but they never look our way and they are already gone, gone far into the future--the night of time. If we could look at a photograph of it and say there they are, they never really stopped but there they are. There is so much to be said, and on the surface of it very little gets said.
There ought to be room for more things, for a spreading out, like. Being immersed in the details of rock and field and slope --letting them come to you for once, and then meeting them halfway would be so much easier--if they took an ingenuous pride in being in one's blood. Alas, we perceive them if at all as those things that were meant to be put aside-- costumes of the supporting actors or voice trilling at the end of a narrow enclosed street. You can do nothing with them. Not even offer to pay.
...
John Ashbery

King John And The Abbot Of Canterbury

An ancient story Ile tell you anon
Of a notable prince, that was called King John;
...
Anonymous Olde English

A Ballad Of John Nicholson

It fell in the year of Mutiny,
At darkest of the night,
...
Sir Henry Newbolt

Johnson’s Antidote

Down along the Snakebite River, where the overlanders camp,
Where the serpents are in millions, all of the most deadly stamp;
...
Banjo Paterson

To John Clare

Well, honest John, how fare you now at home?
The spring is come, and birds are building nests;
...
John Clare

Woman At The Well John Chapter 4

Woman
Walking
...
Josephine Collett

A Front Row Seat To Hear Ole Johnny Sing

Now you know some fellahs, they want fame and fortune
Yeah, and other fellahs they just wanna swing
...
Shel Silverstein

For Johnny Pole On The Forgotten Beach

In his tenth July some instinct
taught him to arm the waiting wave,
...
Anne Sexton

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