1) 141. Song. Anna Wickham. Modern British Poetry
...I WAS so chill, and overworn, and sad, To be a lady was the only joy I had. I walked the street as silent as a mouse, Buying fine clothes, and fittings for the house....
2) 88. Tired Tim. Walter De la Mare. Modern British Poetry
...POOR tired Tim! It's sad for him. He lags the long bright morning through, Ever so tired of nothing to do; He moons and mopes the livelong day, Nothing to think about,...
3) 123. Shell. James Stephens. Modern British Poetry
...And listened well, And straightway like a bell Came low and clear 5 The slow, sad murmur of the distant seas, Whipped by an icy breeze Upon a shore Wind-swept and...
4) 133. People. D. H. Lawrence. Modern British Poetry
...faces that drift and blow 5 Down the night-time, out of sight In the wind's sad sough. The ripeness of these apples of night Distilling over me Makes sickening the...
5) 54. Mystic and Cavalier. Lionel Johnson. Modern British Poetry
...GO from me: I am one of those who fall. What! hath no cold wind swept your heart at all, In my sad company? Before the end, Go from me, dear my friend! Yours are...
6) 4. Robinson Crusoe's Story. Charles E. Carryl. Modern American Poetry
...found 'em, 5 And I know they didn't come ashore with me. Oh! 'twas very sad and lonely When I found myself the only Population on this cultivated shore; But I've...
7) 16. Frost To-night. Edith M. Thomas. Modern American Poetry
...and cut what you will, Frost to-night—so clear and dead-still." Then I sally forth, half sad, half proud, 5 And I come to the velvet, imperial crowd, The wine-red,...
8) 37. On Digital Extremities. Gelett Burgess. Modern American Poetry
...Ears than a Nose; And as for my Hair, I'm Glad it's All There; I'll be Awfully Sad when it Goes! 5...
9) 14. Behold the Deeds! Henry Cuyler Bunner. Modern American Poetry
...I, Adolphe Culpepper Ferguson, for lo! I of my landlady am lockèd in For being short on this sad Saturday, 5 Nor having shekels of silver wherewith to pay: She turned...
10) 9. Lesbia by Richard Aldington. Monroe, Harriet, ed. 1917. The New Poetry:
An Anthology
...GROW weary if you will, let me be sad. Use no more speech now; Let the silence spread gold hair above us, Fold on delicate fold. Use no more speech; 5 You had the...
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