Search Categories - Any -25 Lines or FewerCanadaPre 21st Century21st Century Grade levels - Any -Grades 7-9 / Sec. 1-3Grades 10-12 / Sec. 4 & 5 / CEGEP 1 Sort by RandomNewestMost popularA -> ZZ -> A Apply Wilfred Owen Dulce et Decorum Est Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, William Blake Introduction to the Songs of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, Stephanie Bolster Portrait of Alice with Elvis Queen and King, they rule side by side in golden thrones above the clouds. Her giggle and wide eyes remind him Michael Ondaatje Sweet Like a Crow For Hetti Corea, 8 years old ‘The Sinhalese are beyond a doubt one of the least musical … Herman Melville The Maldive Shark About the Shark, phlegmatical one, Pale sot of the Maldive sea, The sleek little pilot-fish, azure and slim, Raymond Souster Lagoons, Hanlan’s Point Mornings before the sun’s liquid spilled gradually, flooding Thomas Hardy Channel Firing That night your great guns, unawares, Shook all our coffins as we lay, And broke the chancel window-squares, William Carlos Wiliams Danse Russe If I when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping Dennis Lee Bike-Twister Place a foot upon a pedal, Put your pedal-pushers on; To the pedal pin a paddle, Paddle-pedal push upon. Place the paddle-pedal-cycle On a puddle in the park; John Donne The Good-Morrow I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Alfred, Lord Tennyson The Princess: Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font. Langston Hughes The Negro Speaks of Rivers I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers. Wallace Stevens Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. Edwin Arlington Robinson The House on the Hill They are all gone away, The House is shut and still, There is nothing more to say. Katherine Philips Epitaph On her Son H.P. at St. Syth’s Church where her body also lies interred What on Earth deserves our trust? Youth and Beauty both are dust. Emily Brontë No Coward Soul Is Mine No coward soul is mine No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere I see Heaven’s glories shine Naomi Shihab Nye Famous The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds Edgar Allan Poe A Dream Within a Dream Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnets from the Portuguese 24 Let the world’s sharpness, like a clasping knife, Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm, And let us hear no sound of human strife William Shakespeare Sonnet LV: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Not marble nor the gilded monuments Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme, But you shall shine more bright in these contents James Wright A Blessing Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota, Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass. And the eyes of those two Indian ponies Darken with kindness. They have come gladly out of the willows William Butler Yeats When You Are Old When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Hart Crane My Grandmother’s Love Letters There are no stars tonight But those of memory. Yet how much room for memory there is Irving Layton The Cold Green Element At the end of the garden walk the wind and its satellite wait for me; their meaning I will not know A. J. M. Smith The Lonely Land Cedar and jagged fir uplift sharp barbs against the gray Ralph Waldo Emerson Experience The lords of life, the lords of life, — I saw them pass, In their own guise, Ben Jonson Song to Celia Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, Mary Robinson January, 1795 Pavement slipp’ry, people sneezing, Lords in ermine, beggars freezing; Titled gluttons dainties carving, Gertrude Stein Susie Asado Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea. Susie Asado. Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea. Gerard Manley Hopkins Spring Nothing is so beautiful as Spring — When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens,… Robert Frost After Apple Picking My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill Percy Bysshe Shelley Ozymandias I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said — “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.... Near them, on the sand, Christopher Marlowe The Passionate Shepherd to His Love Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields, William Butler Yeats The Second Coming Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Carl Sandburg I Am the People, the Mob I am the people — the mob — the crowd — the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me? I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and clothes. William Blake The Chimney Sweeper: A little black thing among the snow A little black thing among the snow, Crying “weep! ‘weep!” in notes of woe! “Where are thy father and mother? say?” Theodore Roethke My Papa’s Waltz The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: e.e. cummings anyone lived in a pretty how town anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter H. D. Helen All Greece hates the still eyes in the white face, the lustre as of olives John Keats When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charactery, Language English