Future poems
/ page 98 of 121 /
The Blues
© William Matthews
What did I think, a storm clutching a clarinet
and boarding a downtown bus, headed for lessons?
I had pieces to learn by heart, but at twelve
To the Unknown Goddess
© Rudyard Kipling
Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar?
Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar?Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind?
Shall I meet you next session at Simla, O sweetest and best of your kind?Does the P. and O. bear you to meward, or, clad in short frocks in the West,
Are you growing the charms that shall capture and torture the heart in my breast?Will you stay in the Plains till September -- my passion as warm as the day?
A British PHILIPPIC
© Mark Akenside
Occasion'd by the Insults of the Spaniards, and the present Preparations for War, 1738.
Love Well The Hour
© Edith Nesbit
HEART of my heart, my life and light,
If you were lost what should I do?
I dare not let you from my sight,
Lest Death should fall in love with you.
An Australian Paean1876
© Marcus Clarke
The English air is fresh and fair,
The Irish fields are green;
Romulus and Remus
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, little did the Wolf-Child care--
When first he planned his home,
What City should arise and bear
The weight and state of Rome.
Gold Egg: A Dream-Fantasy
© James Russell Lowell
I swam with undulation soft,
Adrift on Vischer's ocean,
And, from my cockboat up aloft,
Sent down my mental plummet oft
In hope to reach a notion.
Funeral Libation (At Gautiers Tomb)
© Stéphane Mallarme
To you, gone emblem of our happiness!
Greetings, in pale libation and madness,
The Plea of the Simla Dancers
© Rudyard Kipling
Too late, alas! the song
To remedy the wrong; --
The rooms are taken from us, swept and
garnished for their fate.
Miles Keogh's Horse
© John Hay
On the bluff of the Little Big-Horn,
At the close of a woful day,
Custer and his Three Hundred
In death and silence lay.
A Romance In The Rough
© Arthur Patchett Martin
A sturdy fellow, with a sunburnt face,
And thews and sinews of a giant mould;
A genial mind, that harboured nothing base,
A pocket void of gold.
The Gods of the Copybook Headings
© Rudyard Kipling
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
Make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place.
'eering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
Eudoxia. Third Picture
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O SILENT my sister, who stands by my side at the shore,
Back gazing with me on those waves which we mortals call years,
That rose, grew, and threatened, and climaxed, and broke, and were o'er,
While we still sit watching and watching, our cheeks free from tears--
O sister, with looks so familiar, yet strange, flitting by,
Say, say, hast thou been to those dead years as faithful as I?
The Explorer
© Rudyard Kipling
There's no sense in going further -- it's the edge of cultivation,"
So they said, and I believed it -- broke my land and sowed my crop --
Built my barns and strung my fences in the little border station
Tucked away below the foothills where the trails run out and stop.
Anhelli - Chapter 2
© Juliusz Slowacki
The Shaman, when he had searched in the hearts of that multitude of exiles,
said to himself: "Verily, I have not found here what I sought;
lo, their hearts are weak and they give themselves over to be conquered by grief.
The Lady of the Lake: Canto IV. - The Prophecy
© Sir Walter Scott
Ellen.
'Well, be it as thou wilt;
I hear, But cannot stop the bursting tear.'
The Minstrel tried his simple art,
Rut distant far was Ellen's heart.
A Boy Scouts'Patrol Song
© Rudyard Kipling
1913
These are our regulations--
There's just one law for the Scout
And the first and the last, and the present and the past,
The Betrothed
© Rudyard Kipling
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.
