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
Could mortal lip divine
The undeveloped Freight
Of a delivered syllable
'Twould crumble with the weight
The undeveloped Freight
Of a delivered syllable
'Twould crumble with the weight
Emily Dickinson
4 lines
When I was just a little lad
Not more than eight or nine,
One special treat to make me glad
Was set apart as 'mine.'
On baking days she granted me
The small boy's dearest wish...
Not more than eight or nine,
One special treat to make me glad
Was set apart as 'mine.'
On baking days she granted me
The small boy's dearest wish...
Edgar Albert Guest
32 lines
Three widows of the Middle West
We're grimly chewing gum;
The Lido chef a quail had dressed
With garlic and with rum,
And they were painfully oppressed
For they had eaten some...
We're grimly chewing gum;
The Lido chef a quail had dressed
With garlic and with rum,
And they were painfully oppressed
For they had eaten some...
Robert William Service
32 lines
I wed him because he looked nice (said she)
And I feared to be left on the shelf.
For I wouldn't take mother's advice (said she),
So I've no one to blame but myself.
My friends always said that he had a flat head
And a curious cranial kink...
And I feared to be left on the shelf.
For I wouldn't take mother's advice (said she),
So I've no one to blame but myself.
My friends always said that he had a flat head
And a curious cranial kink...
As the old year sinks down in Time's ocean,
Stand ready to launch with the new,
And waste no regrets, no emotion,
As the masts and the spars pass from view.
Weep not if some treasures go under,
And sink in the rotten ship's hold...
Stand ready to launch with the new,
And waste no regrets, no emotion,
As the masts and the spars pass from view.
Weep not if some treasures go under,
And sink in the rotten ship's hold...
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
28 lines
East Coast Patrols of the War, 1914-18
In Lowestoft a boat was laid,
Mark well what I do say!
And she was built for the herring-trade,
But she has gone a-rovin', a-rovin', a-rovin',
The Lord knows where...
In Lowestoft a boat was laid,
Mark well what I do say!
And she was built for the herring-trade,
But she has gone a-rovin', a-rovin', a-rovin',
The Lord knows where...
Rudyard Kipling
27 lines
In his lodge beside a river,
Close beside a frozen river,
Sat an old man, sad and lonely.
White his hair was as a snow-drift;
Dull and low his fire was burning,
And the old man shook and trembled...
Close beside a frozen river,
Sat an old man, sad and lonely.
White his hair was as a snow-drift;
Dull and low his fire was burning,
And the old man shook and trembled...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
230 lines
Two poets were born where the skies were fair,
To live in the land thereafter;
And one was a singer of sorrow and care,
And one was a bard of laughter.
With simple measure and simple word,
The feelings of mankind voicing...
To live in the land thereafter;
And one was a singer of sorrow and care,
And one was a bard of laughter.
With simple measure and simple word,
The feelings of mankind voicing...
Henry Lawson
16 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...
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...
John Greenleaf Whittier
180 lines
Grace and glory.
Th' Almighty reigns exalted high
O'er all the earth, o'er all the sky;
Though clouds and darkness veil his feet,
His dwelling is the mercy-seat.
O ye that love his holy name...
Th' Almighty reigns exalted high
O'er all the earth, o'er all the sky;
Though clouds and darkness veil his feet,
His dwelling is the mercy-seat.
O ye that love his holy name...
Isaac Watts
17 lines
'I KNEW a real man once,' says Agatha in the splendor of a shagbark hickory tree.
Did a man touch his lips to Agatha? Did a man hold her in his arms? Did a man only look at her and pass by?
Agatha, far past forty in a splendor of remembrance, says, 'I knew a real man once
Did a man touch his lips to Agatha? Did a man hold her in his arms? Did a man only look at her and pass by?
Agatha, far past forty in a splendor of remembrance, says, 'I knew a real man once
Carl Sandburg
3 lines
Who am I but the Frog--the Frog!
My realm is the dark bayou,
And my throne is the muddy and moss-grown log
That the poison-vine clings to--
And the blacksnakes slide in the slimy tide
Where the ghost of the moon looks blue...
My realm is the dark bayou,
And my throne is the muddy and moss-grown log
That the poison-vine clings to--
And the blacksnakes slide in the slimy tide
Where the ghost of the moon looks blue...
James Whitcomb Riley
36 lines
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...
Come a-glidin' down,
Fallin' black an' heavy
Ovah hill an' town,
Ef you listen keerful,
Keerful ez you kin...
Paul Laurence Dunbar
44 lines
Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is the painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies...
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is the painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies...
William Shakespeare
14 lines
You gave, but will not give again
Until enough of paudeen's pence
By Biddy's halfpennies have lain
To be 'some sort of evidence',
Before you'll put your guineas down,
That things it were a pride to give...
Until enough of paudeen's pence
By Biddy's halfpennies have lain
To be 'some sort of evidence',
Before you'll put your guineas down,
That things it were a pride to give...
William Butler Yeats
36 lines
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...
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
WHY comes not Francis?--From the doleful City
He fled,--and, in his flight, could hear
The death-sounds of the Minster-bell:
That sullen stroke pronounced farewell
To Marmaduke, cut off from pity!
To Ambrose that! and then a knell...
He fled,--and, in his flight, could hear
The death-sounds of the Minster-bell:
That sullen stroke pronounced farewell
To Marmaduke, cut off from pity!
To Ambrose that! and then a knell...
William Wordsworth
187 lines
THE mist is fast clearing.
And radiant is heaven,
Whilst AEolus loosens
Our anguish-fraught bond.
The zephyrs are sighing,
Alert is the sailor...
And radiant is heaven,
Whilst AEolus loosens
Our anguish-fraught bond.
The zephyrs are sighing,
Alert is the sailor...
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
10 lines
'Observing, then, that there is great contempt for the gods
among us' -he says in his solemn way.
Contempt. But what did he expect?
Let him organise religion as much as he liked,
write to the High Priest of Galatia as much as he liked,
or to others of his kind, inciting them, goading them on...
among us' -he says in his solemn way.
Contempt. But what did he expect?
Let him organise religion as much as he liked,
write to the High Priest of Galatia as much as he liked,
or to others of his kind, inciting them, goading them on...
Constantine P. Cavafy
12 lines
You know 'The Teacups,' that congenial set
Which round the Teapot you have often met;
The grave DICTATOR, him you knew of old,--
Knew as the shepherd of another fold
Grayer he looks, less youthful, but the same
As when you called him by a different name...
Which round the Teapot you have often met;
The grave DICTATOR, him you knew of old,--
Knew as the shepherd of another fold
Grayer he looks, less youthful, but the same
As when you called him by a different name...
Oliver Wendell Holmes
90 lines
WITH Shakspeare's manhood at a boy's wild heart,—
Through Hamlet's doubt to Shakspeare near allied,
And kin to Milton through his Satan's pride,—
At Death's sole door he stooped, and craved a dart;
And to the dear new bower of England's art,—
Even to that shrine Time else had deified...
Through Hamlet's doubt to Shakspeare near allied,
And kin to Milton through his Satan's pride,—
At Death's sole door he stooped, and craved a dart;
And to the dear new bower of England's art,—
Even to that shrine Time else had deified...
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
14 lines
'Love, while you were away there came to me -
From whence I cannot tell -
A plaintive lady pale and passionless,
Who bent her eyes upon me critically,
And weighed me with a wearing wistfulness,
As if she knew me well...
From whence I cannot tell -
A plaintive lady pale and passionless,
Who bent her eyes upon me critically,
And weighed me with a wearing wistfulness,
As if she knew me well...
Thomas Hardy
30 lines
I.
The rose that drinks the fountain dew
In the pleasant air of noon,
Grows pale and blue with altered hue—
In the gaze of the nightly moon;
For the planet of frost, so cold and bright...
The rose that drinks the fountain dew
In the pleasant air of noon,
Grows pale and blue with altered hue—
In the gaze of the nightly moon;
For the planet of frost, so cold and bright...
Percy Bysshe Shelley
14 lines
CHRISTMAS hath darkness
Brighter than the blazing noon,
Christmas hath a chillness
Warmer than the heat of June,
Christmas hath a beauty
Lovelier than the world can show...
Brighter than the blazing noon,
Christmas hath a chillness
Warmer than the heat of June,
Christmas hath a beauty
Lovelier than the world can show...
Christina Georgina Rossetti
16 lines
Your lines that linger for us down the years,
Like sparks that tell the glory of a flame,
Still keep alight the splendor of your name,
And living still, they sting us into tears.
Sole perfect singer that the world has heard,
Let fall from that far heaven of thine...
Like sparks that tell the glory of a flame,
Still keep alight the splendor of your name,
And living still, they sting us into tears.
Sole perfect singer that the world has heard,
Let fall from that far heaven of thine...
Sara Teasdale
14 lines
THIS mystery of golden hair,
Of eyes and lips and bosom fair,
Is not--if one could really see--
Mere flesh and blood, like you and me:
This is a sphinx whose still lips say
This one thing ever, day by day...
Of eyes and lips and bosom fair,
Is not--if one could really see--
Mere flesh and blood, like you and me:
This is a sphinx whose still lips say
This one thing ever, day by day...
Edith Nesbit
64 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...
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...
George Gordon Byron
16 lines
A man without virility is a woman and an avaricious devote is a highway robber.
O thou, who hast put on a white robe for a show,
To be approved of men, whilst the book of thy acts is black.
The hand is to be restrained from the world,
No matter whether the sleeve be short or long
O thou, who hast put on a white robe for a show,
To be approved of men, whilst the book of thy acts is black.
The hand is to be restrained from the world,
No matter whether the sleeve be short or long
Saadi Shirazi
5 lines
Here she lies, in bed of spice,
Fair as Eve in paradise;
For her beauty, it was such,
Poets could not praise too much.
Virgins come, and in a ring
Her supremest REQUIEM sing...
Fair as Eve in paradise;
For her beauty, it was such,
Poets could not praise too much.
Virgins come, and in a ring
Her supremest REQUIEM sing...
Robert Herrick
8 lines
How restless are the dead whose silent feet will stray
In to our lone retreat or solitary way;
Within the dew-wet wood or sun-enchanted lane
We meet them face to face, we hear them speak again.
How powerful are the dead whose voices ever speak,
So softly by our side in accents faint and weak...
In to our lone retreat or solitary way;
Within the dew-wet wood or sun-enchanted lane
We meet them face to face, we hear them speak again.
How powerful are the dead whose voices ever speak,
So softly by our side in accents faint and weak...
Dora Sigerson Shorter
24 lines
Pompey, what fortune gives you back
To the friends and the gods who love you?
Once more you stand in your native land,
With your native sky above you.
Ah, side by side, in years agone,
We've faced tempestuous weather...
To the friends and the gods who love you?
Once more you stand in your native land,
With your native sky above you.
Ah, side by side, in years agone,
We've faced tempestuous weather...
Eugene Field
27 lines
Ow can it rain.' the old man said, 'with things the way they are?
You've got to learn off ant and bee, and jackaroo and galah;
And no man never saw it rain, for fifty years at least,
Not when the blessed parakeets are flyinn' to the east!'
The weeks went by, the squatter wrote to tell his bank the news.
'It's still as dry as dust,' he said, 'I'm feeding all the ewes...
You've got to learn off ant and bee, and jackaroo and galah;
And no man never saw it rain, for fifty years at least,
Not when the blessed parakeets are flyinn' to the east!'
The weeks went by, the squatter wrote to tell his bank the news.
'It's still as dry as dust,' he said, 'I'm feeding all the ewes...
A B Banjo Paterson
8 lines
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...
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...
Victor Marie Hugo
21 lines
Well, don't you see this was the way of it:
We bought the farm with what he inherited,
And his brothers and sisters accused him of poisoning
His fathers mind against the rest of them.
And we never had any peace with our treasure.
The murrain took the cattle, and the crops failed...
We bought the farm with what he inherited,
And his brothers and sisters accused him of poisoning
His fathers mind against the rest of them.
And we never had any peace with our treasure.
The murrain took the cattle, and the crops failed...
Edgar Lee Masters
20 lines
.Light, light of my eyes, at an exceeding late hour I was wandering,
And intoxicated,
and no servant was leading me,
And a minute crowd of small boys came from opposite,
I do not know what boys,
And I am afraid of numerical estimate...
And intoxicated,
and no servant was leading me,
And a minute crowd of small boys came from opposite,
I do not know what boys,
And I am afraid of numerical estimate...
Ezra Pound
43 lines
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ' Oh, list,'
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight...
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ' Oh, list,'
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
14 lines
The lark confinèd in his cage,
And captive in his wing,
Though fluttering with imprisoned rage,
Forbeareth not to sing.
But still the strain, though loud and long,
Is but the mock of mirth...
And captive in his wing,
Though fluttering with imprisoned rage,
Forbeareth not to sing.
But still the strain, though loud and long,
Is but the mock of mirth...
Alfred Austin
40 lines
THE LARKS are loud above our leagues of whin
Now the sun’s perfume fills their glorious gold
With odour like the colour: all the wold
Is only light and song and wind wherein
These twain are blent in one with shining din.
And now your gift, a giver’s kingly-souled...
Now the sun’s perfume fills their glorious gold
With odour like the colour: all the wold
Is only light and song and wind wherein
These twain are blent in one with shining din.
And now your gift, a giver’s kingly-souled...
Algernon Charles Swinburne
14 lines
Barbara's eyes are blue as azure,
But she is in love with Freddy.
Karen's sweet, but Harry has her.
Gentle Jane is going steady.
Carol hates me. So does May.
Abigail will not be mine...
But she is in love with Freddy.
Karen's sweet, but Harry has her.
Gentle Jane is going steady.
Carol hates me. So does May.
Abigail will not be mine...
Shel Silverstein
8 lines
SCENE I.
An Ante-chamber in the Castle.
Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.
Ludolph. No more advices, no more cautioning:
I leave it all to fate to any thing!
I cannot square my conduct to time, place...
An Ante-chamber in the Castle.
Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.
Ludolph. No more advices, no more cautioning:
I leave it all to fate to any thing!
I cannot square my conduct to time, place...
John Keats
365 lines
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt,
His name is my name too.
Whenever we go out,
The people always shout,
There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.
Dah dah dah dah, dah dah dah
His name is my name too.
Whenever we go out,
The people always shout,
There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.
Dah dah dah dah, dah dah dah
Anonymous Americas
6 lines
1
STRAY birds of summer come to my window
to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn,
which have no songs,
flutter and fall there with a sigh...
STRAY birds of summer come to my window
to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn,
which have no songs,
flutter and fall there with a sigh...
Rabindranath Tagore
39 lines
Here, Echo, was thy reign of old,
Among these hills, a mystic crowd
Whose thunder rolled
When they speak loud
Still shocks the sea: here thy hair grew
Long as a cloud whose shadow drew...
Among these hills, a mystic crowd
Whose thunder rolled
When they speak loud
Still shocks the sea: here thy hair grew
Long as a cloud whose shadow drew...
Robert Crawford
26 lines
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...
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...
Joachim du Bellay
14 lines
Written after reading Trevelyan's "Garibaldi and the making of Italy"
Poor foolish monarch, vacillating, vain,
Decaying victim of a race of kings,
Swift Destiny shook out her purple wings
And caught him in their shadow; not again
Could furtive plotting smear another stain...
Poor foolish monarch, vacillating, vain,
Decaying victim of a race of kings,
Swift Destiny shook out her purple wings
And caught him in their shadow; not again
Could furtive plotting smear another stain...
Amy Lowell
15 lines
Twelve years ago our Jack was lost. All night,
Twelve years ago, the Spirit of the Storm
Sobbed round our camp. A wind of northern hills
That hold a cold companionship with clouds
Came down, and wrestled like a giant with
The iron-featured woods; and fall and ford...
Twelve years ago, the Spirit of the Storm
Sobbed round our camp. A wind of northern hills
That hold a cold companionship with clouds
Came down, and wrestled like a giant with
The iron-featured woods; and fall and ford...
Henry Kendall
84 lines
Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies
As it psychoanalyzes...
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the lovelight lies
As it psychoanalyzes...
Dorothy Parker
36 lines
YOU must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear;
To-morrow 'll be the happiest time of all the glad new-year,—
Of all the glad new-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day;
For I 'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I 'm to be Queen o' the May.
There 's many a black, black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine...
To-morrow 'll be the happiest time of all the glad new-year,—
Of all the glad new-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day;
For I 'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I 'm to be Queen o' the May.
There 's many a black, black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine...
Alfred Lord Tennyson
158 lines
Poor little Foal of an oppressed race!
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd,
That never thou dost sport along the glade...
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd,
That never thou dost sport along the glade...
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
36 lines
HUSH! 'tis a holy hour-the quiet room
Seems like a temple, while yon soft lamp sheds
A faint and starry radiance, through the gloom
And the sweet stillness, down on fair young heads,
With all their clustering locks, untouch'd by care,
And bow'd, as flowers are bow'd with night, in prayer...
Seems like a temple, while yon soft lamp sheds
A faint and starry radiance, through the gloom
And the sweet stillness, down on fair young heads,
With all their clustering locks, untouch'd by care,
And bow'd, as flowers are bow'd with night, in prayer...
Felicia Dorothea Hemans
42 lines
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