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10 Line Poems

Table of Contents

  1. Sea-Weed by Ruby Archer
  2. How happy is the little stone by Emily Dickinson
  3. Halcyon Days by Ruby Archer
  4. Morn by Ruby Archer
  5. A New Time-Table by Anonymous
  6. A Time to Talk by Robert Frost
  7. A Gray Day by Ruby Archer
  8. The Rabbit by Elizabeth Maddox Roberts
  9. Old Mr. Grumpy by Amos Russel Wells

  1. Sea-Weed

    by Ruby Archer | Total Words: 41, Lines: 10

    Sea-weed, my heart is like
    Your wandering branches—
    Reft from the deep of peace
    By tossings of great life
    In tide and surge,
    And roaming moorless
    'Neath sun or star,
    Seeking a bourne
    That voice of Chance names not
    Nor Destiny.

  2. How happy is the little stone

    by Emily Dickinson | Total Words: 46, Lines: 10

    How happy is the little stone
    That rambles in the road alone,
    And doesn't care about careers,
    And exigencies never fears;
    Whose coat of elemental brown
    A passing universe put on;
    And independent as the sun,
    Associates or glows alone,
    Fulfilling absolute decree
    In casual simplicity.

  3. Halcyon Days

    by Ruby Archer | Total Words: 48, Lines: 10

    My days drift by like white-winged craft
    Upon the summer seas,
    Manned all with fancies, fore and aft,
    And captains of caprice.

    Yo ho, yo-e-ho,
    Let gentle winds blow,
    With ever the water blue.
    Yo ho, yo-e-ho,
    For how do we know
    We could weather a tempest through?

  4. Morn

    by Ruby Archer | Total Words: 54, Lines: 10

    The breath of Morn is softly taken,
    All in little sighs,
    As if unwilling to awaken,
    With a dream prismatic shaken
    Drifting from her eyes.

    Waking bird-song thrills around her,
    A breeze goes by her bower,
    Now a butterfly has found her.
    Lo—she breaks the dark that bound her,—
    Opens like a flower.

  5. A New Time-Table

    by Anonymous | Total Words: 63, Lines: 10

    Sixty seconds make a minute:
    How much good can I do in it?
    Sixty minutes make an hour,—
    All the good that’s in my power.
    Twenty hours and four, a day,—
    Time for work, and sleep, and play.
    Days, three hundred sixty-five
    Make a year for me to strive
    Eight good things for me to do,
    That I wise may grow and true.

  6. A Time to Talk

    Discussing the Harvest
    Discussing the Harvest
    by David Farquharson
    by Robert Frost | Total Words: 76, Lines: 10

    When a friend calls to me from the road
    And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
    I don’t stand still and look around
    On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
    And shout from where I am, What is it?
    No, not as there is a time to talk.
    I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
    Blade-end up and five feet tall,
    And plod: I go up to the stone wall
    For a friendly visit.

  7. A Gray Day

    by Ruby Archer | Total Words: 80, Lines: 10

    A gray day, and the gulls are gone.
    Visor of mist o'er the sun is drawn.
    The cordage creaks and the sails all strain,
    The deck is drenched with the rushing rain,
    The waves leap strong at the struggling keel,
    And the ship rides madly with plunge and reel.
    But the sailors shout as they haul away,
    And merrily sing, for it's naught care they
    For the wind that screams on the lee,
    Or a gray day out at sea.

  8. The Rabbit

    by Elizabeth Madox Roberts | Total Words: 85, Lines: 10

    When they said the time to hide was mine,
    I hid back under a thick grape vine.

    And while I was still for the time to pass,
    A litle gray thing came out of the grass.

    He hopped his way through the melon bed
    And sat down close by a cabbage head.

    He sat down close where I could see,
    And his big still eyes looked hard at me,

    His big eyes bursting out of the rim,
    And I looked back very hard at him.

  9. Old Mr. Grumpy

    by Amos Russel Wells | Total Words: 123, Lines: 10

    "Praise God! Praise God!" the clover said, "for sunshine and the sky."
    And "Praise the Lord!" the brooklet sung, "the rain is drawing nigh."
    "Thank God for frost," the squirrel chirped, "so kind to nuts and me."
    "For frost, that covers me with gold," chimed in the maple-tree.
    And "Praise the Lord for ripened seeds," the chattering sparrows cried.
    "And for the wind," the seeds declared, "that bears us far and wide."
    "Yes, praise the Lord I Oh, praise the Lord!" though skies were blue or gray.
    The hymn of earth and heaven rang throughout the happy day.
    Now none of this old Grumpy heard; he's deaf as deaf can be.
    "This weather's vilest of the vile! a beastly day I" said he.

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