Cool poems
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185. The Humble Petition of Bruar Water
© Robert Burns
MY lord, I know your noble ear
Woe neer assails in vain;
Emboldend thus, I beg youll hear
Your humble slave complain,
Memoirs Of A Spinach-Picker
© Sylvia Plath
They called the place Lookout Farm.
Back then, the sun
Didn't go down in such a hurry. How it
Lit things, that lamp of the Possible!
A Poem Beginning With A Line From Pindar
© Robert Duncan
But the eyes in Goyas painting are soft,
diffuse with rapture absorb the flame.
Their bodies yield out of strength.
Waves of visual pleasure
wrap them in a sorrow previous to their impatience.
The Ballad of the White Horse
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night-
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
82. SongKissing my Katie
© Robert Burns
O MERRY hae I been teethin a heckle,
An merry hae I been shapin a spoon;
O merry hae I been cloutin a kettle,
An kissin my Katie when a was done.
The Worldfeels Dusty
© Emily Dickinson
The Worldfeels Dusty
When We stop to Die
We want the Dewthen
Honorstaste dry
368. SongScroggam, my dearie
© Robert Burns
THERE was a wife wonnd in Cockpen,
Scroggam;
She brewd gude ale for gentlemen;
Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me,
Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum.
The Child-World
© James Whitcomb Riley
There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows
Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy--
As when you were a boy.
The Death
© Leon Gellert
Im hit. Its come at last, I feel a smart
Of needles in
My God
. Im hit again!
The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy
© William Shenstone
A POEM ON THE TEMPER AND STUDIES OF THE AUTHOR; AND HOW GREAT A MISFORTUNE IT IS FOR A MAN OF SMALL ESTATE TO HAVE MUCH TASTE.
Part first.
306. Election Ballad at close of Contest for representing the Dumfries Burghs, 1790
© Robert Burns
Now, for my friends and brethrens sakes,
And for my dear-lovd Land o Cakes,
I pray with holy fire:
Lord, send a rough-shod troop o Hell
Oer a wad Scotland buy or sell,
To grind them in the mire!
The Farewell
© Henry King
Splendidis longum valedico nugis.
Farewell fond Love, under whose childish whip,
I have serv'd out a weary Prentiship;
Thou that hast made me thy scorn'd property,
Seats
© William Barnes
When starbright maïdens be to zit
In silken frocks, that they do wear,
The room mid have, as 'tis but fit,
A han'some seat vor vo'k so feäir;
But we, in zun-dried vield an' wood,
Ha' seats as good's a goolden chair.
On Australian Hills
© Ada Cambridge
Oh, to be there to-night!
To see that rose of sunset flame and fade
On ghostly mountain height,
The soft dusk gathering each leaf and blade
From the departing light,
Each tree-fern feather of the wildwood glade.
The Art Of War. Book VI.
© Henry James Pye
If chiefs like these in combat vers'd have found
Their honors fade as fortune sudden frown'd,
If they have fall'n from fortune's giddy height,
What can ye hope yet novices in fight?
Scarce wean'd by fierce Bellona's fostering arms,
Young in the field, and new to War's alarms.
Life Is A Dream - Act II
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
CLOTALDO. Reasons fail me not to show
That the experiment may not answer;
But there is no remedy now,
For a sign from the apartment
Tells me that he hath awoken
And even hitherward advances.
Rivulose
© Archie Randolph Ammons
You think the ridge hills flowing, breaking
with ups and downs will, though,
building constancy into the black foreground
The Sleeper In The Valley
© Arthur Rimbaud
Its a green hollow where a river sings
Madly catching white tatters in the grass.
Where the sun on the proud mountain rings:
Its a little valley, foaming like light in a glass.
Sonnet LXVIII.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Written at Exmouth, Midsummer, 1795.
FALL, dews of Heaven, upon my burning breast,
Bathe with cool drops these ever-streaming eyes,
Ye gentle Winds, that fan the balmy West,
