THE PROBLEM by Ralph Waldo Emerson
? THE PROBLEM by Ralph Waldo Emerson I like a church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of
A Poem A Day
Here is our collection of poetry from the 1800s or 1800s poetry. We have picked these poems because they are our favorites. This means we did not collect poems from the 1800s to try to form a specific collection, we just picked them because we liked them.
1800s poetry is a rich category. There were of course 1000s of great poems to pick from. Our list here is growing, and we hope you find what you are looking for. This list is not a definitive list of 1800s poetry. It is just a small but growing collection.
We have been publishing poetry for 20 years. We have a special place in our heart for all our poems. If you see a poem that needs corrected, please leave us a comment. If you love one of our poems, please leave a comment, and we will publish it, and we will let the author know. It’s always nice to get positive feedback. We do not publish negative comments about poetry.
? THE PROBLEM by Ralph Waldo Emerson I like a church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of
? The Poor Ghost by Christina Rossetti “Oh whence do you come, my dear friend, to me, With your golden
The Only Ghost I Ever Saw by Emily Dickinson The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin, ?
The Haunted Palace by Edgar Allan Poe In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair
THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS by James Whitcomb Riley They all climbed up on a high board-fence? Nine little Goblins, with
THE HAUNTED OAK by Paul Laurence Dunbar Pray why are you so bare, so bare, Oh, bough of the old
THE VAMPIRE by Rudyard Kipling (The verses?as suggested by the painting by Philip Burne Jones, first exhibited at the new
The Kraken by Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) Below the thunders of the upper deep, Far, far beneath in the abysmal
THAT THE NIGHT COME by W. B. Yeats She lived in storm and strife. Her soul had such desire For
THE LOOKING-GLASS by RUDYARD KIPLING The Queen was in her chamber, and she was middling old, Her petticoat was of
SLEEPY HOLLOW No abbey’s gloom, nor dark cathedral-stoops, No winding torches paint the midnight air; Here the green pines delight,
Kin to Sorrow by Edna St. Vincent Millay Am I kin to Sorrow, That so oft Falls the knocker of
A PORTRAIT by Nathaniel Parker Willis She was not very beautiful, if it be beauty’s test To match a classic
The Foresaken By William Wordsworth THE peace which others seek they find; The heaviest storms not longest last; Heaven grants
HUSH’D BE THE CAMPS TO-DAY by Walt Whitman (May 4, 1865) Hush’d be the camps to-day, And soldiers let us