All Poems in English

Here you will find all poems in English in one place. Metasorting is a new project about poetry and not only. Now we are actively developing the project.

Browse through our vast collection of poems from all over the globe, spanning centuries of creative expression. From the classics to the contemporary, we have something for every poetry enthusiast. Explore the lives and legacies of the poets themselves, and discover the inspiration behind their most famous works. Join us on a journey through the beauty and power of the written word.


found 999 works
Oh Shadow on the Grass,
Art thou a Step or not?
Go make thee fair my Candidate
My nominated Heart -
Oh Shadow on the Grass
While I delay to guess...
I've tried the high-toned specialists, who doctor folks to-day;
I've heard the throat man whisper low 'Come on now let us spray';
I've sat in fancy offices and waited long my turn,
And paid for fifteen minutes what it took a week to earn;
But while these scientific men are kindly, one and all,
I miss the good old doctor that my mother used to call...
You've heard of Belching Billy, likewise known as Windy Bill,
As punk a chunk of Yukon scum as ever robbed a sluice;
A satellite of Soapy Smith, a capper and a shill,
A slimy tribute-taker from the Ladies on the Loose.
But say, you never heard of how he aimed my gore to spill
(That big gorilla gunnin' for a little guy like me...
Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet,
Rules with an iron rod
His house and home; 'neath its red-tiled dome
He struts like a little tin god.
When Popper says stay, the family stay;
When Popper says go, they go...
So we must part forever; and although
I long have beat my wings and cried to go,
Free from your narrow limiting control,
Forth into space, the true home of the soul,

Yet now, yet now that hour is drawing near...
O woe is me for the merry life
I led beyond the Bar,
And a treble woe for my winsome wife
That weeps at Shalimar.

They have taken away my long jezail...
Well pleased all listened to the tale,
That drew, the Student said, its pith
And marrow from the ancient myth
Of some one with an iron flail;
Or that portentous Man of Brass
Hephaestus made in days of yore...
There was a Squatter in the land—
So runs the truthful tale I tell—
There also were three cornstalks, and
There also was the Squatter’s Well.
Singing (slowly): “Sin and sorrer, sin and sor-rer, sin and sor-r-r-rer.”
The Squatter he was full of pluck...
Henry Lawson
71 lines
From the well-springs of Hudson, the sea-cliffs of Maine,
Grave men, sober matrons, you gather again;
And, with hearts warmer grown as your heads grow more cool,
Play over the old game of going to school.
All your strifes and vexations, your whims and complaints,
(You were not saints yourselves, if the children of saints...
The Divine nature, providence, and grace.
Praise ye the Lord; 'tis good to raise
Our hearts and voices in his praise;
His nature and his works invite
To make this duty our delight.
The Lord builds up Jerusalem...
Isaac Watts
34 lines
THIRTY-TWO Greeks are dipping their feet in a creek.
Sloshing their bare feet in a cool flow of clear water.
All one midsummer day ten hours the Greeks
stand in leather shoes shoveling gravel.
Now they hold their toes and ankles
to the drift of running water...
The stars are falling, and the sky
Is like a field of faded flowers;
The winds on weary wings go by;
The moon hides, and the tempest lowers;
And still through every clime and age
I wander on a pilgrimage...
W'EN de evenin' shadders
Come a-glidin' down,
Fallin' black an' heavy
Ovah hill an' town,
Ef you listen keerful,
Keerful ez you kin...
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote where thou dost stay.
No matter then although my foot did stand
Upon the farthest earth removed from thee...
I
GRANDFATHER sang it under the gallows:
' Hear, gentlemen, ladies, and all mankind:
Money is good and a girl might be better.
But good strong blows are delights to the mind.'
There, standing on the catt...
I have said that the soul is not more than the body,
And I have said that the body is not more than the soul,
And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is,
And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy walks to his own funeral drest in his shroud,
And I or you pocketless of a dime may purchase the pick of the earth,
And to glance with an eye or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times...
Walt Whitman
20 lines
FAR from our home by Grasmere's quiet Lake,
From the Vale's peace which all her fields partake,
Here on the bleakest point of Cumbria's shore
We sojourn stunned by Ocean's ceaseless roar;
While, day by day, grim neighbour! huge Black Comb
Frowns deepening visibly his native gloom...
IN my boyhood's days so drear
I was kept confined;
There I sat for many a year,
All alone I pined,
As within the womb.
Yet thou drov'st away my gloom...
Brave men you who fought and died so nobly,
never afraid of those who were winning every battle.
You weren't to blame if Diaios and Kritolaos were at fault.
When Greeks are in a mood to boast, they'll say
'It's men like those our nation breeds.'
That's how great their praise will be...
AT A DINNER GIVEN HIM ON HIS EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY,
DECEMBER 12, 1885
With a bronze statuette of John of Bologna's Mercury,
presented by a few friends.
FIT emblem for the altar's side,
And him who serves its daily need...
AT length I sickened, standing in the sun
Truthful and for the Truth, whose only fees
Are madness and sharp death. I bowed my knees
And said: “As long as the world's years have run,
These accents have been said and these things done:
That which is mine abasement is their ease...
Orion swung southward aslant
Where the starved Egdon pine-trees had thinned,
The Pleiads aloft seemed to pant
With the heather that twitched in the wind;
But he looked on indifferent to sights such as these,
Unswayed by love, friendship, home joy or home sorrow...
Thomas Hardy
21 lines
I.
Thy country's curse is on thee, darkest crest
Of that foul, knotted, many-headed worm
Which rends our Mother’s bosom—Priestly Pest!
Masked Resurrection of a buried Form!
II...
What will you give me for my pound?
Full twenty shillings round.
What will you give me for my shilling?
Twelve pence to give I'm willing.
What will you give me for my penny?
Four farthings, just so many
STEELY stars and moon of brass,
How mockingly you watch me pass!
You know as well as I how soon
I shall be blind to stars and moon,
Deaf to the wind in the hemlock tree,
Dumb when the brown earth weighs on me...
Before your feet,
My love, my sweet,
Behold! your slave bows down;
And in his hands
From other lands
Brings you another crown...
Edith Nesbit
12 lines
Oh you, who in all names can tickle the town,
Anacreon, Tom Little, Tom Moore, or Tom Brown,
For hang me if I know of which you may most brag,
Your Quarto two-pounds, or your Two­penny Post Bag;
But now to my letter-to yours 'tis an answer--
To-morrow be with me, as soon as you can, sir...
The gambler requires three sixes and only three aces turn up.
The pasture is a thousand times more pleasant than the racecourse
But the steed has not the bridle at its option
Twixt truth and error, there's this difference known
Error is fruitful, truth is only one
Sitting alone in my room,
Alone in the gathering gloom,
Solitude in the rest of the tomb.
While the drip, drip, drip of the rain,
Like tears that are falling in vain
For a loss that is gone past regain...
Come, dear old friend, and with us twain
To calm Digentian groves repair;
The turtle coos his sweet refrain
And posies are a-blooming there;
And there the romping Sabine girls
Bind myrtle in their lustrous curls...
Eugene Field
36 lines
'Will you love me, sweet, when my hair is grey
And my cheeks shall have lost their hue?
When the charms of youth shall have passed away
Will your love as of old prove true?
'For the looks may change, and the heart may range
And the love be no longer fond...
That brow, that smile, that cheek so fair,
Beseem my child, who weeps and plays:
A heavenly spirit guards her ways,
From whom she stole that mixture rare.
Through all her features shining mild,
The poet sees an angel there...
I tried to win the nomination
For president of the County-board
And I made speeches all over the County
Denouncing Solomon Purple, my rival,
As an enemy of the people,
In league with the master-foes of man...
This man knew out the secret ways of love,
No man could paint such things who did not know.
And now she's gone, who was his Cyprian,
And you are here, who are ‘The Isles’ to me.
And here's the thing that lasts the whole thing out:
The eyes of this dead lady speak to me
Ezra Pound
6 lines
Thou indeed, little Swallow,
A sweet yearly comer.
Art building a hollow
New nest every summer.
And straight dost depart
Where no gazing can follow...
Not in the mist of legendary ages,
Which in sad moments men call long ago,
And people with bards, heroes, saints, and sages,
And virtues vanished, since we do not know,
But here to-day wherein we all grow old,
But only we, this Tale of True Love will be told...
Alfred Austin
552 lines
BEYOND the north wind lay the land of old
Where men dwelt blithe and blameless, clothed and fed
With joy’s bright raiment and with love’s sweet bread,
The whitest flock of earth’s maternal fold.
None there might wear about his brows enrolled
A light of lovelier fame than rings your head...
There was a time when people taked said with their mouth
How they talk and it doesn't mean a thing it's called the modern talk
Now picture the scene the day is sunny
A man meets a friend and asks him for some money
He says I need five to keep me alive
And the friend gives him this kinda jive...
SCENE I.
A part of the Forest.
Enter CONRAD and AURANTHE.
Auranthe. Go no further; not a step more; thou art
A master-plague in the midst of miseries.
Go I fear thee. I tremble every limb...
John Keats
463 lines
Ye heralds of freedom, ye noble and brave,
Who dare to insist on the rights of the slave,
Go onward, go onward, your cause is of God,
And he will soon sever the oppressor's strong rod.
The finger of slander may now at you point,
That finger will soon lose the strength of its joint...
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
with warmth and care of my mother
my father , to love, kiss and embrace
wear life happily in all their grace.
I like to be dependent, and so for ever
on my kith and kin, for they all shower...
The old man is not miserable, nay, cheery
For such a grey old fellow. Life's still good,
And he at many points is yet in touch
With the material; and what if now
He has not the old energy to sling
The passion of his nature off, he can...
Quiconque, mon Bailleul, fait longuement séjour
Sous un ciel inconnu, et quiconques endure
D'aller de port en port cherchant son aventure,
Et peut vivre étranger dessous un autre jour :
Qui peut mettre en oubli de ses parents l'amour,
L'amour de sa maîtresse, et l'amour que nature...
Near where I live there is a lake
As blue as blue can be, winds make
It dance as they go blowing by.
I think it curtseys to the sky.
It's just a lake of lovely flowers
And my Mamma says they are ours...
Amy Lowell
16 lines
OUT of the body for ever,
Wearily sobbing, “Oh, whither?”
A Soul that hath wasted its chances
Floats on the limitless ether.
Lost in dim, horrible blankness;
Drifting like wind on a sea...
My hand, a little raised, might press a star-
Where I may look, the frosted peaks are spun,
So shaped before Olympus was begun,
Spanned each to each, now, by a silver bar.
Thus to face Beauty have I traveled far,
But now, as if around my heart were run...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet...
Alas! they had been friends in youth;
But whispering tongues can poison truth;
And constancy lives in realms above;
And life is thorny; and youth is vain;
And to be wroth with one we love,
Doth work like madness in the brain...
OH! ask not, hope thou not too much
Of sympathy below;
Few are the hearts whence one same touch
Bids the sweet fountains flow:
Few-and by still conflicting powers
Forbidden here to meet...
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