Poems

There’s always a snowstorm coming and I’m always booked at a café on the other side of the mountain ...

Grace Paley

Because I could not stop for Death— He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Ourselves— ...

Emily Dickinson

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can tru...

Rudyard Kipling

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy...

Walt Whitman

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be Fo...

William Ernest Henley

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crow...

William Wordsworth

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume...

Edgar Allan Poe

I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the d...

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shak...

William Shakespeare

Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stoppin...

Robert Frost

No man is an island, Entire of itself, Every man is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. If...

John Donne