Future poems
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Our Little Needs
© Edgar Albert Guest
A LITTLE more of loving, a little less of pain,
A little more of sunshine, a little less of rain;
A little more of friendship, a little less of strife
These are what we 're wanting to make the perfect life.
For The Same Book ( To Louisa C, For Her Album)
© John Kenyon
With all its best of sense and wit
Each Album's earlier leaves are writ;
No pagebut Love and Friendship on it
Shower dainty prose and perfumed sonnet;
While not one troubling thought comes nigh
Of future dearth and vacancy.
The Library
© George Crabbe
When the sad soul, by care and grief oppress'd,
Looks round the world, but looks in vain for rest;
On The Death Of Damon. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Ye Nymphs of Himera (for ye have shed
Erewhile for Daphnis and for Hylas dead,
The Door Of Humility
© Alfred Austin
ENGLAND
We lead the blind by voice and hand,
And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand
The How and Why of such as He;
The Prodigy.
© Mary Barber
Then they throng to my House, and my Maid they beseech,
To say, if her Mistress had quite lost her Speech.
Nell readily own'd, what they heard was too true;
That To--day I was dumb, give the Devil his Due:
And frankly confess'd, were it always the Case,
No Servant could e'er have a happier Place.
Verses II
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Supposed to have been written in the New Forest,
in early Spring.
AS in the woods, where leathery Lichen weaves
Its wint'ry web among the sallow leaves,
The Dunciad: Book III.
© Alexander Pope
But in her Temple's last recess inclos'd,
On Dulness' lap th' Anointed head repos'd.
Sleep by Todd Davis: American Life in Poetry #136 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Here's a fine seasonal poem by Todd Davis, who lives and teaches in Pennsylvania. It's about the drowsiness that arrives with the early days of autumn. Can a bear imagine the future? Surely not as a human would, but perhaps it can sense that the world seems to be slowing toward slumber. Who knows?
Sleep
Faces
© Edgar Albert Guest
I look into the faces of the people passing by,
The glad ones and the sad ones, and the lined with misery,
And I wonder why the sorrow or the twinkle in the eye;
But the pale and weary faces are the ones that trouble me.
On The Death Of Mr. Fox
© George Gordon Byron
THE FOLLOWING ILLIBERAL IMPROMPTU APPEARED IN A MORNING PAPER:
'Our nation's foes lament on Fox's death,
But bless the hour when PITT resign'd his breath:
These feelings wide, let sense and truth unclue,
We give the palm where Justice points its due.'
Italy : 23. Bologna
© Samuel Rogers
'Twas night; the noise and bustle of the day
Were o'er. The mountebank no longer wrought
Miraculous cures -- he and his stage were gone;
And he who, when the crisis of his tale
The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms
© George Crabbe
floor.
Here his poor bird th' inhuman Cocker brings,
Arms his hard heel and clips his golden wings;
With spicy food th' impatient spirit feeds,
And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds.
Struck through the brain, deprived of both his
The Farewell
© Charles Churchill
_P_. Farewell to Europe, and at once farewell
To all the follies which in Europe dwell;
The Pig's Tale
© Lewis Carroll
Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters-
I've a Tale to tell.
Ashtaroth: A Dramatic Lyric
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Orion: But an understanding tacit.
You have prospered much since the day we met;
You were then a landless knight;
You now have honour and wealth, and yet
I never can serve you right.
