The Garden of Love By William Blake I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of…
Tag: poem analysis
Vultures
Vultures By Chinua Achebe In the greyness and drizzle of one despondent dawn unstirred by harbingers of sunbreak a vulture perching high on broken bones of a dead tree nestled close to his mate his smooth bashed-in head, a pebble…
Unguarded Gate
Unguarded Gate By Thomas Bailey Aldrich Annotated edition of the 1892 Atlantic Text WIDE open and unguarded stand our gates, Named of the four winds, North, South, East, and West; Portals that lead to an enchanted land Of cities, forests,…
To the Right Honorable William, Earl of Dartmouth
To the Right Honorable William, Earl of Dartmouth By Phillis Wheatley Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn, Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn: The northern clime beneath her genial ray, Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway: Elate with hope…
To The Foot From Its Child
To The Foot From Its Child By Pablo Neruda Translated by Jodey Bateman A child’s foot doesn’t know it’s a foot yet And it wants to be a butterfly or an apple But then the rocks and pieces of glass,…
An Africa Thunderstorm
An Africa Thunderstorm By David Rubadiri From the west Clouds come hurrying with the wind Turning sharply Here and there Like a plague of locusts Whirling, Tossing up things on its tail Like a madman chasing nothing. Pregnant clouds Ride…
The Table And The Chair
The Table And The Chair By Edward Lear I Said the Table to the Chair, ‘You can hardly be aware, ‘How I suffer from the heat, ‘And from chilblains on my feet! ‘If we took a little walk, ‘We might…
What He Thought
What He Thought By Heather McHugh for Fabio Doplicher We were supposed to do a job in Italy and, full of our feeling for ourselves (our sense of being Poets from America) we went from Rome to Fano, met the…
The Hug
The Hug By Thom Gunn It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined Half of the night with our old friend Who’d showed us in the end To a bed I reached in one drunk stride. Already I lay…
The Great Storm
The Great Storm By Jo Shapcott We rode it all night. We were not ourselves then. Through the window everything was horizontal. In cars and ships and woods, folk died. Small trees scattered like matchsticks and a whole shed flew…
The More Loving One
The More Loving One By W. H. Auden Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man…
Midnight Ride of Paul Revere
Midnight Ride of Paul Revere by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous…
Mi Abuelo
Mi Abuelo By Alberto Ríos Where my grandfather is is in the ground where you can hear the future like an Indian with his ear at the tracks. A pipe leads down to him so that sometimes he whispers what…
Mean Time
Mean Time By Carol Ann Duffy The clocks slid back an hour and stole light from my life as I walked through the wrong part of town, mourning our love. And, of course, unmendable rain fell to the bleak streets…
Madam and the Rent Man
Madam and the Rent Man By Langston Hughes The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy-do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know Your rent is due. I said, Listen, Before I’d pay I’d go to…
Living in Sin
Living in Sin By Adrienne Rich She had thought the studio would keep itself no dust upon the furniture of love Half heresy, to wish the taps less vocal the pains relieved of grime. A plate of pears, a piano…
The Rose That Grew from Concrete
The Rose That Grew from Concrete By Tupac Shakur Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature’s law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet. Funny it seems, but…
The Ebb and Flow
The Ebb and Flow by Edward Taylor When first thou on me, Lord, wrought’st thy sweet print, My heart was made thy tinder box. My ‘ffections were thy tinder in’t: Where fell thy sparks by drops. Those holy sparks of…
The Paradox
The Paradox Paul Laurence Dunbar I am the mother of sorrows, I am the ender of grief; I am the bud and the blossom, I am the late-falling leaf. I am thy priest and thy poet, I am thy serf…
The Rear Guard
The Rear Guard by Siegfried Sassoon (Hindenburg Line, April 1917) Groping along the tunnel, step by step, He winked his prying torch with patching glare From side to side, and sniffed the unwholesome air. Tins, boxes, bottles, shapes and too…