Anger poems
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The Rape of the Trap. A Ballad
© William Shenstone
'Twas in a land of learning,
The Muse's favourite city,
Such pranks of late
Were play'd by a rat,
As-tempt one to be witty.
Offering
© Kenneth Allott
I offer you my forests and my street-cries
With hands of double-patience under the clock,
The antiseptic arguments and lies
Uttered before the flood, the submerged rock.
The sack of meal pierced by the handsome fencer,
The flowers dying for a great adventure.
Wordsworth's Grave
© William Watson
The old rude church, with bare, bald tower, is here;
Beneath its shadow high-born Rotha flows;
Rotha, remembering well who slumbers near,
And with cool murmur lulling his repose
Italy : 1. The Lake Of Geneva
© Samuel Rogers
Day glimmered in the east, and the white Moon
Hung like a vapour in the cloudless sky,
The Hangman's Great Hands
© Kenneth Patchen
And all that is this day. . .
The boy with cap slung over what had been a face. .. Somehow the cop will sleep tonight, will make love to his
wife...
Anger won't help. I was born angry. Angry that my father was
When We Were Here Together
© Kenneth Patchen
when we were here together in a place we did not know, nor one
another.
A bit of grass held between the teeth for a moment, bright hair on the
wind.
Lord, what a Beloved is mine!
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Lord, what a Beloved is mine! I have a sweet quarry; I possess
in my breast a hundred meadows from his reed.
When in anger the messenger comes and repairs towards me,
he says, Whither are you fleeing? I have business with you.
The Jackdaw Of Rheims
© Richard Harris Barham
The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there;
Fleckno, an English Priest at Rome
© Andrew Marvell
Oblig'd by frequent visits of this man,
Whom as Priest, Poet, and Musician,
I for some branch of Melchizedeck took,
(Though he derives himself from my Lord Brooke)
Last Instructions to a Painter
© Andrew Marvell
Here, Painter, rest a little, and survey
With what small arts the public game they play.
For so too Rubens, with affairs of state,
His labouring pencil oft would recreate.
Moses In The Bulrushes. A Sacred Drama
© Hannah More
Hebrew Woman.
Jochebed, Mother of Moses.
Miriam, his Sister.
The Child Of The Islands - Winter
© Caroline Norton
I.
ERE the Night cometh! On how many graves
Rests, at this hour, their first cold winter's snow!
Wild o'er the earth the sleety tempest raves;
Immortality
© Lisel Mueller
In Sleeping Beauty's castle
the clock strikes one hundred years
and the girl in the tower returns to the world.
So do the servants in the kitchen,
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 4.
© William Cowper
Arion. Lo, from the field of air I too descend,
I who am called Arion,
The mighty ruler of this winged band,
At the command of hell.
To A Young Poet Who Killed Himself
© Joyce Kilmer
When you had played with life a space
And made it drink and lust and sing,
You flung it back into God's face
And thought you did a noble thing.
Anger Lay By Me
© Elizabeth Daryush
Anger lay by me all night long,
His breath was hot upon my brow,
He told me of my burning wrong,
All night he talked and would not go.
Moral Song
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Would we attain the happiest State,
That is design'd us here;
No Joy a Rapture must create,
No Grief beget Despair.
My Dearest Frank, I Wish You Joy
© Jane Austen
My dearest Frank, I wish you joy
Of Mary's safety with a Boy,
Whose birth has given little pain
Compared with that of Mary Jane.--
