As well as new recordings by contemporary poets the Poetry Archive also contains selections of classic poems recorded by contemporary voices.

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Poet

1 poem available

I have walked a great while over the snow, and I am not tall nor strong. My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set, and the way was hard and long. - Mary Elizabeth Coleridge 'The Witch'

Poet

Robert Louis Stevenson

B. 1850 D. 1894

1 poem available

All that was good, all that was fair, all that was me is gone. - Robert Louis Stevenson 'Sing Me A Song of A Lad That Is Gone'

Poet

W. E. B. DuBois

B. 1868 D. 1963

1 poem available

I am the Smoke King. I am black! I am swinging in the sky, I am wringing worlds awry. - W. E. B. DuBois - 'The Song of The Smoke'

Poet

C. P. Cavafy

B. 1863 D. 1933

1 poem available

As one long prepared, and graced with courage, say goodbye to her, the Alexandria that is leaving. - C.P. Cavafy 'The God Abandons Antony'

Poet

Frederick Tuckerman

B. 1821 D. 1873

1 poem available

Nor can I drop my lids, nor shade my brows, but there he stands beside the lifted sash. - Frederick Tuckerman 'An Upper Chamber In A Darkened House'

Poet

G. K. Chesterton

B. 1874 D. 1936

1 poem available

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode, the rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road. - G.K. Chesterton 'The Rolling English Road'

Poet

Adelaide Anne Procter

B. 1825 D. 1864

1 poem available

While he is at rest, I am cursed still to live:- even Death loved him the best. - Adelaide Anne Procter 'Envy'

Poet

Amy Lowell

B. 1874 D. 1925

1 poem available

Spilt is that liquor, my too hasty hand threw down the cup, and did not understand. - Amy Lowell 'A Blockhead'

Poet

William Barnes

B. 1801 D. 1866

1 poem available

I be free to goo abrode, or teake agean my hwomeward road to where, vor me, the apple tree do lean down low in Linden Lea. - William Barnes 'My orcha'd in Linden Lea'

Poet

W. H. Davies

B. 1871 D. 1940

1 poem available

And I could see that child's one eye which seemed to laugh, and say with glee: 'what caused my death you'll never know, perhaps my mother murdered me.' - W.H. Davies - 'The Inquest'

Poet

Walt Whitman

B. 1819 D. 1892

3 poems available

And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, my heart gives you love. - Walt Whitman 'Dirge For Two Veterans'

Poet

Charlotte Mew

B. 1869 D. 1928

1 poem available

A frail, dead, new-born lamb, ghostly and pitiful and white a blot upon the night, the moon's dropped child! - Charlotte Mew, 'Fame'

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