Poetry

The Bee By  Emily Dickinson Like trains of cars on tracks of plush I hear the level bee: A jar across the flowers goes, Their velvet masonry Withstan…

Have You Nothing to Say for Yourself? By  Victor Hugo Speak, if you love me, gentle maiden!     Or haunt no more my lone retreat. If not for me thy h…

The Rose of Peace By William Butler Yeats If Michael, leader of God’s host When Heaven and Hell are met, Looked down on you from Heaven’s d…

To An Isle in the Water By William Butler Yeats Shy one, Shy one, Shy one of my heart, She moves in the firelight Pensively apart. She …

In a Disused Graveyard By  Robert Lee Frost The living come with grassy tread To read the gravestones on the hill; The graveyard draws the living sti…

A Little Song By  Duncan Campbell Scott The sunset in the rosy west     Burned soft and high; A shore-lark fell like a stone to his nest     In the w…

The Return of the Children By  Rudyard Kipling Neither the harps nor the crowns amused, nor the cherubs' dove-winged races —  Holding hands forlo…

No Man’s Land By  Gilbert Parker Oh, we have been a-maying, dear, beyond the city gates,     The little city set upon a hill; And we have seen the jo…

A Late Walk By  Robert Lee Frost When I go up through the mowing field, The headless aftermath, Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew, Half clos…

Precedence By  Emily Dickinson Wait till the majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered footman Might dare to touch it now! Wait till…

Those Images By  William Butler Yeats What if I bade you leave The cavern of the mind? There’s better exercise In the sunlight and wind. I never bade…