Business poems
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The Stealing Of The Mare - VI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Said the Narrator:
And when the Emir Abu Zeyd had departed with the mare, and had taken his leave of the Princess Alia, and had passed into the outer pastures, then remained the Princess a long while weeping at his going, and in doubt how she should meet her people, and in fear of what might come to her through the stealing of the mare. And she returned to her tent, and threw herself upon her bed, weeping with both eyes. This for her. But as to the Emir Abu Zeyd, he too fell adoubting as he rode; and he said, ``If I go back now to the Arabs, mine own people, and to my business, nor take thought of Alia, it will certainly happen that our doings will be made known, and her father will slay her; and, on the other hand, if I should return to her, it will be a matter of long duration, and I shall be a great while withheld from my people and my affairs. Now, therefore, it were better I should go see that which is happening among them.'' And he stopped at a fountain of water, and he drank of it, and he gave his mare to drink. And he sat him down to think over all his plan, and he remembered the day of judgment, and the oath that he had taken to Alia that he would return to her before going to his own people. And this is what happened in the case of the Emir Abu Zeyd.
And at this point the Narrator began once more to sing, and it was in the following verses:
My Father Holds the Door for Yoko Ono by Christopher Chambers: American Life in Poetry #88 Ted Koose
© Ted Kooser
This wistful poem shows how the familiar and the odd, the real and imaginary, exist side by side. A Midwestern father transforms himself from a staid businessman into a rock-n-roll star, reclaiming a piece of his imaginary youth. In the end, it shows how fragile moments might be recovered to offer a glimpse into our inner lives.
Josephs Dreams and Reuben's Brethren [A Recital in Six Chapters]
© Henry Lawson
CHAPTER I
I cannot blame old Israel yet,
Heads And Tails
© Franklin Pierce Adams
If a single man is studious and quiet, people say
He is grouchy, he is old before his time;
If he's frivolous and flippant, if he treads the primrose way,
Then they mark him for a wild career of crime.
The Unhappy Lot Of Mr. Knott
© James Russell Lowell
My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott,
From business snug withdrawn,
Was much contented with a lot
That would contain a Tudor cot
'Twixt twelve feet square of garden-plot,
And twelve feet more of lawn.
Don Juan: Canto The Twelfth
© George Gordon Byron
Of all the barbarous middle ages, that
Which is most barbarous is the middle age
The Borough. Letter XXIV: Schools
© George Crabbe
pride, -
Their room, the sty in which th' assembly meet,
In the close lane behind the Northgate-street;
T'observe his vain attempts to keep the peace,
Till tolls the bell, and strife and troubles cease,
Apostate Will
© Thomas Chatterton
In days of old, when Wesley's power
Gathered new strength by every hour;
Noey's Night-Piece
© James Whitcomb Riley
"It _seemed_ a good-'eal _longer_, but I _know_
He sung and plunked there half a' hour er so
Afore, it 'peared like, he could ever git
His own free qualified consents to quit
And go off 'bout his business. When he went
I bet you could a-bought him fer a cent!
Dramatic Fragment
© Henry Timrod
Let the boy have his will! I tell thee, brother,
We treat these little ones too much like flowers,
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.
Boats In A Fog
© Robinson Jeffers
Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers,
The exuberant voices of music,
This Man Jones
© James Whitcomb Riley
This man Jones was what you'd call
A feller 'at had no sand at all;
Our Little Needs
© Edgar Albert Guest
A LITTLE more of loving, a little less of pain,
A little more of sunshine, a little less of rain;
A little more of friendship, a little less of strife
These are what we 're wanting to make the perfect life.
The Troubadour
© William Schwenck Gilbert
A troubadour he played
Without a castle wall,
Within, a hapless maid
Responded to his call.
Shrine Of The Virgin - Part II
© John Kenyon
She cometh to the seaward shrine,
A mother, with her children three;
A Warning: to Aurelius
© Gaius Valerius Catullus
I commend myself and my love to you,
Aurelius. I ask for modest indulgence,
The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms
© George Crabbe
floor.
Here his poor bird th' inhuman Cocker brings,
Arms his hard heel and clips his golden wings;
With spicy food th' impatient spirit feeds,
And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds.
Struck through the brain, deprived of both his
