Future poems
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Some Account Of A New Play
© Richard Harris Barham
Tavistock Hotel, Nov. 1839.
Dear Charles,
- In reply to your letter, and Fanny's,
Lord Brougham, it appears, isn't dead,- though Queen Anne is;
'Twas a 'plot' and a 'farce'- you hate farces, you say -
Take another 'plot,' then, viz. the plot of a Play.
The Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin Mary
© Alessandro Manzoni
O'er the hills of the country, a went climbing one day,
In the stillness a Nazarene carpenter's bride,
A visit, unseen, to the cottage to pay
Of a happy old wife in first pregnancy's pride.
Farewell To Italy
© Frances Anne Kemble
Farewell awhile, beautiful Italy!
My lonely bark is launched upon the sea
A Dream
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
I dreamt a dream, a dazzling dream, of a green isle far away,
Where the glowing West to the ocean's breast calleth the dying day;
The Memorial
© Alexander Pushkin
Beyond compare the monument I have erected,
And to this spirit column well-worn the people's path,--
Its head defiant will out-soar that famous pillar
The Emperor Alexander hath!
To James Norton Esq.
© Charles Harpur
Think you I have not skill to gather gold,
If I could love it as some others do?
On The Consequences Of Happy Marriages
© George Moses Horton
Hail happy pair from whom such raptures rise,
On whom I gaze with pleasure and surprize;
From thy bright rays the gloom of strife is driven,
For all the smiles of mutual love are Heaven.
Love, Death, And Reputation
© Charles Lamb
Once on a time, Love, Death, and Reputation,
Three travellers, a tour together went;
And, after many a long perambulation,
Agreed to part by mutual consent.
Sir Hornbook
© Thomas Love Peacock
O'er bush and briar Childe Launcelot sprung
With ardent hopes elate,
And loudly blew the horn that hung
Before Sir Hornbook's gate.
The Second Hymn Of Callimachus. To Apollo
© Matthew Prior
Hah! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree,
And all the cavern shakes! Far off, far off,
A Dream Of England
© Alfred Austin
I had a dream of England. Wild and weird,
The billows ravened round her, and the wrack,
The One Certain Thing by Peter Cooley : American Life in Poetry #268 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
If writers are both skilled and lucky, they may write something that will carry their words into the future, past the hour of their own deaths. I’d guess all writers hope for this, and the following poem by Peter Cooley, who lives in New Orleans and teaches creative writing at Tulane, beautifully expresses his hope, and theirs.
The One Certain Thing
A day will come I’ll watch you reading this.
Moore
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
He sings the heroic tales of old
When Ireland yet was free,
Of many a fight and foray bold,
And raid beyond the sea.
The Wrongs Of Africa: Part The Second
© William Roscoe
FAIR is this fertile spot, which God assign'd
As man's terrestrial home; where every charm
The Bell-Founder Part I - Labour And Hope
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
In that land where the heaven-tinted pencil giveth shape to the
splendour of dreams,
Near Florence, the fairest of cities, and Arno, the sweetest of streams,
'Neath those hills whence the race of the Geraldine wandered in ages
The Tears of Old May Day
© John Logan
Led by the jocund train of vernal hours
And vernal airs, uprose the gentle May;
Blushing she rose, and blushing rose the flowers
That sprung spontaneous in her genial ray.
Geist's Grave
© Matthew Arnold
Four years!--and didst thou stay above
The ground, which hides thee now, but four?
And all that life, and all that love,
Were crowded, Geist! into no more?
