Future poems
/ page 67 of 121 /Epistle from Mrs. Yonge to Her Husband
© Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
Think not this paper comes with vain pretense
To move your pity, or to mourn th offense.
Interesting Times
© Mark Jarman
Everything’s happening on the cusp of tragedy, the tip of comedy, the pivot of event.
You want a placid life, find another planet. This one is occupied with the story’s arc:
Thoughts on Imputed Righteousness - Occasioned by Reading Theron and Aspasio : Part III.
© John Byrom
Adam and Eve, by Satan's wiles decoy'd,
Did what the kind Commandment said - avoid.
The Sorcerer: Act I
© William Schwenck Gilbert
For to-day young Alexis-young Alexis Pointdextre
Is betrothed to Aline-to Aline Sangazure,
And that pride of his sex is-of his sex is to be next her
At the feast on the green-on the green, oh, be sure!
Change
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
And this is what is left of youth! . . .
There were two boys, who were bred up together,
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act I
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
KING. Yes, from this rocky height,
Nigh to the sun, that with one starry light
Its rugged brow doth crown,
Headlong among the salt waves leaping down
Let him descend who so much pain perceives;
There let him raging die who raging lives.
I Would To Heaven That I Were So Much Clay
© George Gordon Byron
I would to heaven that I were so much clay,
As I am blood, bone, marrow, passion, feeling -
The Prime of Life
© Henry Lawson
OH, the strength of the toil of those twenty years, with father, and master, and men!
And the clearer brain of the business man, who has held his own for ten:
Oh, the glorious freedom from business fears, and the rest from domestic strife!
The past is dead, and the future assured, and Im in the prime of life!
The Wires of the Night
© Billy Collins
I thought about his death for so many hours,
tangled there in the wires of the night,
that it came to have a body and dimensions,
more than a voice shaking over the telephone
or the black obituary boldface of name and dates.
To My Old Oak Table
© Robert Bloomfield
Friend of my peaceful days! substantial friend,
Whom wealth can never change, nor int'rest bend,
The Glories Of The Present
© Edgar Albert Guest
WHAT of the glories after death,
When this frail form gives up its breath?
On the Welsh Language
© Katherine Philips
If honor to an ancient name be due,
Or riches challenge it for one that’s new,
The Children
© Mark Jarman
The children are hiding among the raspberry canes.
They look big to one another, the garden small.
O Summer Sun!
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O summer sun, O moving trees!
O cheerful human noise, O busy glittering street!
What hour shall Fate in all the future find,
Or what delights, ever to equal these:
Only to taste the warmth, the light, the wind,
Only to be alive, and feel that life is sweet?