Friendship poems

 / page 51 of 65 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Valediction.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

And folks revile us ne'er.
Don't call us names, then, please!"--
At length I meet with ease,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

For Ever.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The wise,--the bard alone in visions fair,--
In my best hours I found in her all this,
And made mine own, to mine exceeding bliss.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

An Autumn Garden

© Bliss William Carman

For the ancient and virile nurture
Of the teeming primordial ground,
For the splendid gospel of color,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Three Odes To My Friend.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

[These three Odes are addressed to a certain
Behrisch, who was tutor to Count Lindenau, and of whom Goethe gives
an odd account at the end of the Seventh Book of his Autobiography.]

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Metamorphosis Of Plants.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Happily teach thee the word, which may the mystery
solve!
Closely observe how the plant, by little and little progressing,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

No, Thank You John

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

I never said I loved you, John:
Why will you tease me day by day,
And wax a weariness to think upon
With always "do" and "pray"?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Trooper Campbell

© Henry Lawson

One day old Trooper Campbell
Rode out to Blackman's Run,
His cap-peak and his sabre
Were glancing in the sun.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Man Who Raised Charlestown

© Henry Lawson

They were hanging men in Buckland who would not cheer King George –
The parson from his pulpit and the blacksmith from his forge;
They were hanging men and brothers, and the stoutest heart was down,
When a quiet man from Buckland rode at dusk to raise Charlestown.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

In The Days When The World Was Wide

© Henry Lawson

The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow,
For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go;
Greater, or smaller, the same old things we see by the dull road-side --
And tired of all is the spirit that sings
of the days when the world was wide.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Since Then

© Henry Lawson

I met Jack Ellis in town to-day --
Jack Ellis -- my old mate, Jack --
Ten years ago, from the Castlereagh,
We carried our swags together away
To the Never-Again, Out Back.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Men We Might Have Been

© Henry Lawson

When God's wrath-cloud is o'er me,
Affrighting heart and mind;
When days seem dark before me,
And days seem black behind;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Fagot

© Jonathan Swift

Observe the dying father speak:
Try, lads, can you this bundle break?
Then bids the youngest of the six
Take up a well-bound heap of sticks.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To An Old Mate

© Henry Lawson

Old Mate! In the gusty old weather,
When our hopes and our troubles were new,
In the years spent in wearing out leather,
I found you unselfish and true --
I have gathered these verses together
For the sake of our friendship and you.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Ghost

© Henry Lawson

Down the street as I was drifting with the city's human tide,
Came a ghost, and for a moment walked in silence by my side --
Now my heart was hard and bitter, and a bitter spirit he,
So I felt no great aversion to his ghostly company.
Said the Shade: `At finer feelings let your lip in scorn be curled,
`Self and Pelf', my friend, has ever been the motto for the world.'

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Fire At Ross's Farm

© Henry Lawson

The squatter saw his pastures wide
Decrease, as one by one
The farmers moving to the west
Selected on his run;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

If you fancy that your people came of better stock than mine,

© Henry Lawson

If you fancy that your people came of better stock than mine,
If you hint of higher breeding by a word or by a sign,
If you're proud because of fortune or the clever things you do --
Then I'll play no second fiddle: I'm a prouder man than you!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Homesick

© Edgar Albert Guest

It's tough when you are homesick in a strange

  and distant place;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Verses IV

© Charlotte Turner Smith

On the Death of the same Lady, written in Sept. 1794.
LIKE a poor ghost the night I seek;
Its hollow winds repeat my sighs;
The cold dews mingle on my cheek

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Morai

© Helen Maria Williams

FAIR OTAHEITE , fondly blest

 By him who long was doom'd to brave