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A dozen poems
For todayA version friendly to printer and palmtop
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Shadows, by Richard Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton
THEY seem'd, to those who saw them meet,
The casual friends of every day;
Her smile was undisturb'd and sweet,
His courtesy was free and gay.
But yet if one the other's name
Shattered Memories, by T.J. Daniels
From a long forgotten past
the shadows on the wall
are lost in the darkness
as memories dance on the ceiling.
Memories from someone elses past
Bushland, by Arthur Patchett Martin
Not sweeter to the storm-tossed mariner
Is glimpse of home, where wife and children wait
To welcome him with kisses at the gate,
Than to the town-worn man the breezy stir
Of mountain winds on rugged pathless heights:
Song, by Edward J. O'Brien
She goes all so softly
Like a shadow on the hill,
A faint wind at twilight
That stirs, and is still.
She weaves her thoughts whitely,
There's Rosemary, by Olive Tilford Dargan
O love that is not Love, but dear, so dear!
That is not love because it goes full soon,
Like flower born and dead within one moon,
And yet is love, for that it comes too near
The guarded fane where love alone may peer,
The Great Hunt, by Carl Sandburg
I cannot tell you now;
When the wind's drive and whirl
Blow me along no longer,
And the wind's a whisper at last --
Maybe I'll tell you then --
To Electra, by Robert Herrick
I DARE not ask a kiss,
I dare not beg a smile,
Lest having that, or this,
I might grow proud the while.
No, no, the utmost share
What We Want, by Joe Hill
We want all the workers in the world to organize
Into a great big union grand
And when we all united stand
The world for workers we demand
If the working class could only see and realize
Voyage a l'Infini, by Walter Conrad Arensberg
The swan existing
Is like a song with an accompaniment
Imaginary.
Across the grassy lake,
Across the lake to the shadow of the willows,
The Inverted Torch, by Edith M. Thomas
Threading a darksome passage all alone,
The taper's flame, by envious current blown,
Crouched low, and eddied round, as in affright,
So challenged by the vast and hostile night,
Then down I held the taper; -- swift and fain
The Faithless Shepherdess, by William Byrd
WHILE that the sun with his beams hot
Scorched the fruits in vale and mountain,
Philon the shepherd, late forgot,
Sitting beside a crystal fountain
In shadow of a green oak tree,
Bali, by Barbara Nelson
Our poets wrote in early settler days
Of floods and drought, nature's
capricious ways
All "Acts of God" for which no blame
was cast
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