Cool poems
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The Canterbury Tales; PROLOGUE
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
Hope
© William Cowper
Ask what is human life -- the sage replies,
With disappointment lowering in his eyes,
David And Goliath. A Sacred Drama
© Hannah More
Great Lord of all things! Power divine!
Breathe on this erring heart of mine
Thy grace serene and pure:
Defend my frail, my erring youth,
And teach me this important truth--
The humble are secure!
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =Third Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
CIC. I do not believe it is always like that, Tansillo; because,
sometimes, notwithstanding that we discover the spirit to be vicious, we
remain heated and entangled; so that, although reason perceives the evil
and unworthiness of such a love, it yet has not power to alienate the
disordered appetite. In this disposition, I believe, was the Nolano when
he said:
June On The Merrimac
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O dwellers in the stately towns,
What come ye out to see?
This common earth, this common sky,
This water flowing free?
Bigtime
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Hey dragged up my holly and I pull it to a town for the bigtime
Hey rig down the road I tore 'em down I'm a bigtime
I wheeled right in them swinging doors
Out through the window with half of that store
Shearers Dream
© Henry Lawson
O I dreamt I shore in a shearing shed and it was a dream of joy
For every one of the rouseabouts was a girl dressed up as a boy
Dressed up like a page in a pantomime the prettiest ever seen
They had flaxen hair they had coal black hair and every shade between
Carmen
© Madison Julius Cawein
Some still night in Seville; the street,
_Candilejo_; two shadows meet--
Flash sabres; crossed within the moon,--
Clash rapidly--a dead dragoon.
Fatality
© Rubén Dario
The tree is happy because it is scarcely sentient;
the hard rock is happier still, it feels nothing:
there is no pain as great as being alive,
no burden heavier than that of conscious life.
John Underhill
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A score of years had come and gone
Since the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth stone,
When Captain Underhill, bearing scars
From Indian ambush and Flemish wars,
Left three-hilled Boston and wandered down,
East by north, to Cocheco town.
The Vision Of The Maid Of Orleans - The Third Book
© Robert Southey
The Maiden, musing on the Warrior's words,
Turn'd from the Hall of Glory. Now they reach'd
Afternoon
© Emma Lazarus
Small, shapeless drifts of cloud
Sail slowly northward in the soft-hued sky,
With blur half-tints and rolling summits bright,
By the late sun caressed; slight hazes shroud
All things afar; shineth each leaf anigh
With its own warmth and light.
The Adirondacs
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Wise and polite,--and if I drew
Their several portraits, you would own
Chaucer had no such worthy crew,
Nor Boccace in Decameron.
A Midsummer Noon in the Australian Forest
© Charles Harpur
Not a bird disturbs the air!
There is quiet everywhere;
Over plains and over woods
What a mighty stillness broods.
London Excursion
© John Gould Fletcher
We gallop along
Alert and penetrating,
Roads open about us,
Housetops keep at a distance.
The Departure Of St. Patrick From Scotland
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Twice to your son already has the hand of God been shewn,
Restoring him from alien bonds to be once more your own,
And now it is the self--same hand, dear kinsmen, that to--day
Shall take me for the third time from all I love away.
Tale XIV
© George Crabbe
dwell,
While he was acting (he would call it) well;
He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell;
There was no fraud, and he demanded cause
Why he was troubled when he kept the laws?"
"My laws!" said Conscience. "What," said he, "
