English poetry

Poems in English

Tom’s Little Dog

Tom told his dog called Tim to beg, And up at once he sat, His two clear amber eyes fixed […]

At Ease

Most wounds can Time repair; But some are mortal these: For a broken heart there is no balm, No cure […]

Off the Ground

Three jolly Farmers Once bet a pound Each dance the others would Off the ground. Out of their coats They […]

The Mocking Fairy

‘Won’t you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?’ Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden; ‘Can’t you look […]

How Sleep the Brave

Nay, nay, sweet England, do not grieve! Not one of these poor men who died But did within his soul […]

When the Rose is Faded

When the rose is faded, Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed, And the sweet smell gone. That vanishing […]


Clouded with snow The cold winds blow, And shrill on leafless bough The robin with its burning breast Alone sings […]

The Sleeper

As Ann came in one summer’s day, She felt that she must creep, So silent was the clear cool house, […]


If I were Lord of Tartary, Myself, and me alone, My bed should be of ivory, Of beaten gold my […]

Sunk Lyonesse

In sea-cold Lyonesse, When the Sabbath eve shafts down On the roofs, walls, belfries Of the foundered town, The Nereids […]


When music sounds, gone is the earth I know, And all her lovely things even lovelier grow; Her flowers in […]


There is wind where the rose was, Cold rain where sweet grass was, And clouds like sheep Stream o’er the […]

Old Susan

When Susan’s work was done, she’d sit With one fat guttering candle lit, And window opened wide to win The […]

A Song of Enchantment

A song of Enchantment I sang me there, In a green-green wood, by waters fair, Just as the words came […]

The Keys of Morning

While at her bedroom window once, Learning her task for school, Little Louisa lonely sat In the morning clear and […]

Fare Well

When I lie where shades of darkness Shall no more assail mine eyes, Nor the rain make lamentation When the […]


“Once…Once upon a time…” Over and over again, Martha would tell us her stories, In the hazel glen. Hers were […]


Far are the shades of Arabia, Where the Princes ride at noon, ‘Mid the verdurous vales and thickets, Under the […]

The Scribe

What lovely things Thy hand hath made: The smooth-plumed bird In its emerald shade, The seed of the grass, The […]


Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot Tell you, Dr. Jones- The most peculiar pain I’m in- I think it’s in […]

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