Poems by First Line

• It haunts my days, it haunts my nights - Hezekiah Butterworth
• It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, - William Wordsworth
• It is a fair, pellucid lake - Isaac McLellan
• It is a goodly sight through the clear air - Joanna Baillie
• It is a place where poets crowned may feel the heart's decaying - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
• It is a sinking - Edwin Brock
• It is an inlet arm from the Bosphoros Strait, - Raj Nandy
• It is easy to come here a stranger - Carl Sandburg
• It is from Nectan's mossy steep - Robert Stephen Hawker
• It is growing dark! Yet one line more, - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
• It is hard to know where the light falls from - Clarissa Aykroyd
• It is like worship, this Easter queue - Will Hatchett
• It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk, - Francis Thompson
• It is not for what you are or do - Nathaniel Frothingham
• It is portentous, and a thing of state - Vachel Lindsay
• It is the close of day - Cicely Fox Smith
• It is the mid-May sun that, rayless and peacefully gleaming, - Richard Milnes, 1st Baron Houghton
• It is the noon of night. On this calm spot - George Dennison Prentice
• It is the sacred hour: above the far - Harold Monro
• It is wisdom to think the people are the city. - Carl Sandburg

Poems about Places