poetry poem

give me hunger
let us express our baser passions
all quiet along the potomac
when the wind works against us in the dark
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
night was black and drear
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
when i was broke in london
desolate and lone
he'd even have his joke
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
royal feast was done
have you heard
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true