Animal poems
/ page 8 of 37 /The Society Upon The Stanislaus
© Francis Bret Harte
I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James;
I am not up to small deceit or any sinful games;
And I'll tell in simple language what I know about the row
That broke up our Society upon the Stanislow.
Lyonnesse
© Sylvia Plath
No use whistling for Lyonnesse!
Sea-cold, sea-cold it certainly is.
Take a look at the white, high berg on his forehead-
The Unicorn
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
A long time ago, when the earth was green
and there was more kinds of animals than you've ever seen,
and they run around free while the world was bein' born,
and the lovliest of all was the Unicorn.
Seasons Of The Soul
© Allen Tate
Attor porsi la mano un poco avante,
e colsi un ramicel da un gran pruno;
e U tronco suo gridd: Perchd mi schiante?
The Task : Complete
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
On Being Asked to Write a School Hymn
© Charles Causley
On a starless night and still
Underneath a sleeping hill
Comes the cry of sheep and kine
From the slaughter house to mine.
Brer Rabbit You's de Cutes' of 'Em All
© James Weldon Johnson
"Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin',
Brer Fox am mighty sly,
Brer Terrapin an' 'Possum kinder small;
Brer Lion's mighty vicious,
Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious,
Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all."
The Bronze David Of Donatello
© Randall Jarrell
To so much strength, those overborne by it
Seemed girls, and death came to it like a girl,
Came to it, through the soft air, like a bird-
So that the boy is like a girl, is like a bird
Standing on something it has pecked to death.
Thoughts Fer The Discuraged Farmer
© James Whitcomb Riley
The summer winds is sniffin' round the bloomin'
locus' trees;
The Heaven Of Animals
© James Dickey
Here they are. The soft eyes open.
If they have lived in a wood
It is a wood.
If they have lived on plains
It is grass rolling
Under their feet forever.
In Imitation of E. of Dorset : Artemisia
© Alexander Pope
Tho' Artemisia talks, by fits,
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke;
Yet in some things methinks she fails,
'Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock.
Vowels
© Arthur Rimbaud
Black A, white E, red I, green U, blue O - vowels,
Some day I will open your silent pregnancies:
A, black belt, hairy with burst flies,
Bumbling and buzzing over stinking cruelties,
Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto III
© Samuel Butler
Quoth RALPHO, Truly that is no
Hard matter for a man to do,
That has but any guts in 's brains,
And cou'd believe it worth his pains;
But since you dare and urge me to it,
You'll find I've light enough to do it.
The Kangaroo
© Barron Field
When sooty swans are once more rare,
And duck-moles the Museum's care,
Be still the glory of this land,
Happiest Work of finest Hand!