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 Bliss Carman Low Tide on Grand Pré The sun goes down, and over all These barren reaches by the tide Such unelusive glories fall, Robert Browning My Last Duchess That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now; Frà Pandolf’s hands Ben Jonson Song: To Celia Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; Walt Whitman Beat! Beat! Drums! Beat! beat! drums! — blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows — through doors — burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, 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 Fred Wah “Breathe dust…” Breathe dust like you breathe wind so strong in your face little grains of dirt which pock around the cheeks peddling against a dust-storm coming down a street to the edge of Edward Lear The Owl and the Pussy-Cat I The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat, Lawrence Ferlinghetti Constantly Risking Absurdity (#15) Constantly risking absurdity … Marjorie Pickthall When Winter Comes Rain at Muchalat, rain at Sooke, And rain, they say, from Yale to Skeena, And the skid-roads blind, and never a look Rita Bouvier Sometimes I Find Myself Weeping at the Oddest Moment sometimes I find myself weeping at the oddest moment John Milton On Shakespeare. 1630 What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones, The labor of an age in pilèd stones, Or that his hallowed relics should be hid Robert Burns To a Mouse On Turning up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785 Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie, O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! Aimé Césaire New Year Out of their torments men carved a flower which they perched on the high plateaus of their faces 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. Margaret Atwood Death of a Young Son by Drowning He, who navigated with success the dangerous river of his own birth once more set forth Mary Robinson January, 1795 Pavement slipp’ry, people sneezing, Lords in ermine, beggars freezing; Titled gluttons dainties carving, Yoko Ono Color Piece Visual world not exactly shaped – Sense of smell, anticipation, senses that are not exactly shaped — Dark shadows casted — Rat colors with faint hairly smells and pale 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 John Donne A Hymn to God the Father Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run, Claire Harris Kay in Summer Someone waiting in the lobby of a Hotel Imperial amid the spaciousness tourists and peeling gold leaf might see it all as too hesitant for truth Ezra Pound A Virginal No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately. I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness, For my surrounding air hath a new lightness; Hart Crane At Melville’s Tomb Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge The dice of drowned men’s bones he saw bequeath An embassy. Their numbers as he watched, bp Nichol Two Words: A Wedding There are things you have words for, things you do not have words for. There are words that encompass all your feelings & words that encompass none. There are feelings William Wordsworth Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: Don McKay Sometimes a Voice (1) Sometimes a voice — have you heard this? — wants not to be voice any longer, wants something whispering between the words, some Lewis Carroll A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky A boat, beneath a sunny sky, Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July — Walt Whitman O Captain! My Captain! O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, 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 Alfred, Lord Tennyson The Charge of the Light Brigade I. Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, Majzoob Tabrizi Fire in the Reeds One night, fire fell into a reed bed It burned like love falling onto a soul As fire’s head warmed to its work every reed turned into a candle at its own grave Alexander Pope Ode on Solitude Happy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, Edwin Arlington Robinson Richard Cory Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, 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. Phyllis Webb The Days of the Unicorns I remember when the unicorns roved in herds through the meadow behind the cabin, and how they would Edgar Allan Poe Annabel Lee It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know Lord (George Gordon) Byron So, we’ll go no more a roving So, we’ll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, Robert Frost The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood Wayne Keon howlin at the moon take the moon nd take a star when you don’t know who you are paint the picture in your hand nd roll on home take my fear nd take the hunger take my body Paul Laurence Dunbar We Wear the Mask We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, — This debt we pay to human guile; A. E. Housman To an Athlete Dying Young The time you won your town the race We chaired you through the market-place; Man and boy stood cheering by, Language English