Cool poems
/ page 58 of 144 /Noon Hour
© Carl Sandburg
She sits in the dust at the walls
And makes cigars,
Bending at the bench
With fingers wage-anxious,
Changing her sweat for the day's pay.
Overseas
© Madison Julius Cawein
When Fall drowns morns in mist, it seems
In soul I am a part of it;
A portion of its humid beams,
A form of fog, I seem to flit
From dreams to dreams….
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7
© Publius Vergilius Maro
AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;
Don Juan: Canto The Second
© George Gordon Byron
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
Written At Sea
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What is my quarrel with thee, beautiful sea,
That thus I cannot love thy waves or thee,
Or hear thy voice but it tormenteth me?
Robert Buchanan
© William Cosmo Monkhouse
T WAS the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay in the Field of Blood;
To the Spirit of Music
© Henry Kendall
How sweet is wandering where the west
Is full of thee, what time the morn
Looks from his halls of rosy rest
Across green miles of gleaming corn!
Real Property
© Harold Monro
Tell me about that harvest field.
Oh! Fifty acres of living bread.
The colour has painted itself in my heart;
The form is patterned in my head.
Et Dona Ferentes
© Rudyard Kipling
In extended observation of the ways and works of man,
From the Four-mile Radius roughly to the Plains of Hindustan:
I have drunk with mixed assemblies, seen the racial ruction rise,
And the men of half Creation damning half Creation's eyes.
The Wife Of Brittany
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
TRUTH wed to beauty in an antique tale,
Sweet-voiced like some immortal nightingale,
Trills the clear burden of her passsionate lay,
As fresh, as fair as wonderful to-day
As when the music of her balmy tongue
Ravished the first warm hearts for whom she sung.
The Legend Of Lady Gertrude
© Ada Cambridge
E'en till the woods and hamlets down below,
And summer meadows, were all broad and clear;
The river, moving statelily and slow,
A crimson ribbon in the sunset glow-
The dim, white, distant city strangely near.
Unrequited
© Madison Julius Cawein
Passion? not hers! who held me with pure eyes:
One hand among the deep curls of her brow,
I drank the girlhood of her gaze with sighs:
She never sighed, nor gave me kiss or vow.
The Golden Game
© Norman Rowland Gale
If ever there was a Golden Game
To brace the nerves, to cure repining,
Elegy V. Anno Aet. 20. On The Approach Of Spring (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Time, never wand'ring from his annual round,
Bids Zephyr breathe the Spring, and thaw the ground;
Sydney-Side
© Henry Lawson
Oh, there never dawned a morning, in the long and lonely days,
But I thought I saw the ferries streaming out across the bays
And as fresh and fair in fancy did the picture rise again
As the sunrise flushed the city from Woollahra to Balmain:
The Heavy Dragoon
© William Schwenck Gilbert
If you want a receipt for that popular mystery,
Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,
To The Same (Charles Walker)
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
PUT no faith in aught you meet with, friends or lovers,
new or old,