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Yee yee! We've found 1,205 poems matching sick.

Sonnet 101: Stella Is Sick
Sir Philip Sidney
Stella is sick, and in that sickbed lies Sweetness, which breathes and pants as oft as she: And Grace, sick too, such fine conclusions tries Tha...Rate it:

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The Love-Sick Boy
William Schwenck Gilbert
joy; My riches at her feet I threw; I was a love-sick boy! No terms seemed too extravagant Upon herRate it:

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La Muse Malade (The Sick Muse)
Charles Baudelaire
et le grand Pan, le seigneur des moissons. The Sick Muse My poor Muse, alas! what ails you today?Rate it:

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A Sick Soul
John Newton
Physician of my sin-sick soul, To thee I bring my case; My raging malady control, And heal me by thy grace. Pity the anguish I endure, See how I ...Rate it:

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The Sick Rose
William Blake
O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimso...Rate it:

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Alice Sick
La Fontaine
SICK, Alice grown, and fearing dire event, Some friend advised a servant should be sent Her confessor to bring and ease her mind;-- Yes, she replie...Rate it:

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By Now So Sick Of Waiting
Gaspara Stampa
By now so sick of waiting, I'm by now so beaten by the pain (by now the burn won't stop and he forgets so quickly how I trust in his return and how...Rate it:

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Fragment: Such Hope, As Is The Sick Despair Of Good
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Such hope, as is the sick despair of good, Such fear, as is the certainty of ill, Such doubt, as is pale Expectation’s food Turned while she tastes...Rate it:

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How sick—to wait—in any place—but thine
Emily Dickinson
How sick—to wait—in any place—but thine— I knew last night—when someone tried to twine— Thinking—perhaps—that I looked tired—or alone— Or breaking—...Rate it:

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My Heart Is Sick With Longing
Thomas Hood
My heart is sick with longing, tho' I feed On hope; Time goes with such a heavy pace That neither brings nor takes from thy embrace, As if he sl...Rate it:

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Robert Herrick
call down the moon from out her sphere, On this sick youth work your enchantments here! Bind up hisRate it:

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Visitation And Communion Of The Sick
John Keble
eye-glances are too bright, Too restless for a sick man's sight. Farewell; for one short life we paRate it:

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The Sick Lion and the Ass
Jonathan Swift
A lion sunk by time's decay, Too feeble grown to hunt his prey, Observed his fatal hour draw nigh: He drooped and laid him down to die. There came ...Rate it:

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The Sick Man and the Nightingale
Amy Levy
(From Lenau.) So late, and yet a nightingale? Long since have dropp'd the blossoms pale, The summer fields are ripening, And yet a sound of spring...Rate it:

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Answer To Cloe Jealous. The Author Sick
Matthew Prior
Yes, fairest Proof of Beauty's Pow'r, Dear Idol of My panting Heart, Nature points This my fatal Hour: And I have liv'd; and We must part. While n...Rate it:

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Ada Cambridge
a wound thou canst not ease; Nay, there's a sickness past thine art. Ah me! while I'm beyond the seRate it:

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Home-Sick. Written In Germany
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
his back, Before the door of his own home? Home-sickness is a wasting pang; This feel I hourly morRate it:

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I Was Sick And In Prison
Jones Very
Thou hast not left the rough-barked tree to grow Without a mate upon the river's bank; Nor dost Thou on one flower the rain bestow, But many a cup ...Rate it:

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Sick Leave
Siegfried Sassoon
When I’m asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm,— They come, the homeless ones, the noiseless dead. While the dim charging breakers of the storm B...Rate it:

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The Sick Abbess
La Fontaine
EXAMPLE often proves of sov'reign use; At other times it cherishes abuse; 'Tis not my purpose, howsoe'er, to tell Which of the two I fancy to excel...Rate it:

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The Sick God
Thomas Hardy
I In days when men had joy of war, A God of Battles sped each mortal jar; The peoples pledged him heart and hand, From Israel's land ...Rate it:

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The Sick Muse
Charles Baudelaire
My impoverished muse, alas! What have you for me this morning? Your empty eyes are stocked with nocturnal visions, In your cheek's cold and tacit...Rate it:

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The Sick Stockrider
Adam Lindsay Gordon
sward beneath me seems to heave and fall; And sickly, smoky shadows through the sleepy sunlight swRate it:

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To Stella, Written On The Day Of Her Birth. March 13, 1723-4, But Not On The Subject, When I Was Sick In Bed
Jonathan Swift
Tormented with incessant pains, Can I devise poetic strains? Time was, when I could yearly pay My verse to Stella's native day: But now unable grow...Rate it:

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Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Aw, I'm sick o' the whole darn human race, An' I'm sick o' this mundane ball; I'm sick o' the sight o' me brother's face, An' his works an' talk an...Rate it:

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