Henry David thoreau

Great God, I ask for no meaner pelf Than that I may not disappoint myself, That in my action I may soar as high As I can now discern with this clear eye, Prayer

Epitaph On The World
I Knew A Man By Sight
I am the autumnal sun
Indeed, indeed, I cannot tell
Let such pure hate still underprop
Low-Anchored Cloud
My life has been the poem
On Fields O'er Which the Reaper's Hand has Passed
Pray to What Earth
Rumors from an Aeolian Harp
Sic Vita
The Inward Morning
The Moon
The Summer Rain
They Who Prepare my Evening Meal Below
Though All The Fates
What's the Railroad to Me
Within the Circuit of This Plodding Life

more poems:
Anne Sexton
Edgar Allan Poe
Emily Dickinson
E. E. Cummings
Henry David Thoreau
John Keats
Langston Hughes
Lascelles Abercrombie
Pablo Neruda
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Robert Frost
Sylvia Plath
William Butler Yeats
William Shakespeare
William Wordsworth