Art poems
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Of Public Spirit In Regard To Public Works: An Epistle, To His Royal Highness Frederick Prince of Wa
© Richard Savage
Great Hope of Britain!-Here the Muse essays
A theme, which, to attempt alone, is praise.
Be Her's a zeal of Public Spirit known!
A princely zeal!-a spirit all your own!
Gotham - Book II
© Charles Churchill
How much mistaken are the men who think
That all who will, without restraint may drink,
Written For My Son
© Mary Barber
When Athens was for Arts and Arms renown'd,
Olympic Wreaths uncommon Merit crown'd.
These slight Distinctions from the Learn'd and Wise,
Convey'd eternal Honour with the Prize:
'Twas this, the gen'rous Love of Fame inspir'd,
And Grecian Breasts with noblest Ardor fir'd.
To A Friend Writing On Cabaret Dancers
© Ezra Pound
Good Hedgethorn', for we'll anglicize your name
Until the last slut's hanged and the last pig disembowelled,
Seeing your wife is charming and your child
Sings in the open meadow at least the kodak says so
Pilgrimage In Search Of Do-Well
© William Langland
Thus y-robed in russet . romed I aboute
Al in a somer seson . for to seke Do-wel;
Uriconium An Ode
© Wilfred Owen
It lieth low near merry England's heart
Like a long-buried sin; and Englishmen
A Pot of Red Lentils by Peter Pereira: American Life in Poetry #53 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 20
© Ted Kooser
In the yard we plant
rhubarb, cauliflower, and artichokes,
cupping wet earth over tubers,
our labor the germ
of later sustenance and renewal.
The Loving Shepherdess
© Robinson Jeffers
She dreamed that a two-legged whiff of flame
Rose up from the house gable-peak crying, "Oh! Oh!"
And doubled in the middle and fled away on the wind
Like music above the bee-hives.
An American Tale
© Helen Maria Williams
"Ah! pity all the pangs I feel,
If pity e'er ye knew;-
An aged father's wounds to heal,
Through scenes of death I flew.
Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto I
© Samuel Butler
His doublet was of sturdy buff,
And tho' not sword, yet cudgel-proof;
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,
Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise.
Valentine Day in Cactus Center
© Arthur Chapman
Things is quiet, here in Cactus, and our bullyvards now lack
The brisk, upliftin' infloo'nce of the forty-five's loud crack;
There's three doctors and some nusses, all the way from San Antone,
And they're patchin' up the leavin's of a Valentine cyclone.
At The Saturday Club
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I start; I wake; the vision is withdrawn;
Its figures fading like the stars at dawn;
Crossed from the roll of life their cherished names,
And memory's pictures fading in their frames;
Yet life is lovelier for these transient gleams
Of buried friendships; blest is he who dreams!
To James Russell Lowell
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Here let us keep him, here he saw the light,--
His genius, wisdom, wit, are ours by right;
And if we lose him our lament will be
We have "five hundred"--_not_ "as good as he."
At The Funeral Of A Minor Poet
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
[One of the Bearers Soliloquizes:]
. . . Room in your heart for him, O Mother Earth,
The Soul Of Spain
© Ernest Hemingway
Bill's father would never knowingly sit down at table with a Democrat.
Now Bill says democracy must go.
Go on democracy.
Democracy is the shit.
Relativity is the shit.
A New Year's Plaint
© James Whitcomb Riley
In words like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold;
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.
--TENNYSON.
The pilgrimage to Mecca
© George Canning
What holy rites Mohammed's laws ordain,
What various duties bind his faithful train,-
A College Career
© Robert Fuller Murray
I
When one is young and eager,
A bejant and a boy,
Though his moustache be meagre,
