Good poems
/ page 110 of 545 /Extract From "A New England Legend"
© John Greenleaf Whittier
How has New England's romance fled,
Even as a vision of the morning!
The Lord Is My Shepherd
© James Montgomery
The Lord is my Shepherd, no want shall I know;
I feed in green pastures, safe folded I rest;
He leadeth my soul where the still waters flow,
Restores me when wandring, redeems when oppressed.
Rubaiyat 31
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
My life has only brought me sorrow;
Loves good and bad only taught me sorrow.
My constant companion is only pain,
My lover has only bought me sorrow.
The Storie Of William Canynge
© Thomas Chatterton
ANENT a brooklette as I laie reclynd,
Listeynge to heare the water glyde alonge,
Song Of Late September
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
IN this irised net I keep
All the moth-winged winds of sleep,
The Good Lord Gave
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The good Lord gave, the Lord has taken from me,
Blessed be His name, His holy will be done
Fragments from 'Genius Lost'
© Charles Harpur
Prelude
I SEE the boy-bard neath lifes morning skies,
While hopes bright cohorts guess not of defeat,
And ardour lightens from his earnest eyes,
And faiths cherubic wings around his being beat.
I Saw A Jolly Hunter
© Charles Causley
I saw a jolly hunter
With a jolly gun
Walking in the country
In the jolly sun.
Otho And Poppaea: A Dramatic Scene
© Arthur Symons
POPPAEA
I will speak with you
If you will speak for kindness; but your brows
Are sick and stormy: why do you frown on me?
I will not speak unless it is for love.
Elephants Are Different To Different People
© Carl Sandburg
Wilson said, "What is its name? Is it from Asia or Africa? Who feeds
it? Is it a he or a she? How old is it? Do they have twins? How much does
it cost to feed? How much does it weigh? If it dies, how much will another
one cost? If it dies, what will they use the bones, the fat, and the hide
for? What use is it besides to look at?"
Lines Written At Venice In 1865
© Frances Anne Kemble
Sleep, Venice, sleep! the evening gun resounds
Over the waves that rock thee on their breast;
Tarantula, Or The Dance Of Death
© Anthony Evan Hecht
During the plague I came into my own.
It was a time of smoke-pots in the house
Against infection. The blind head of bone
Grinned its abuse
Good-By To The Cradle
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
GOOD-BY to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle,
The rude hand of Progress has thrust it aside:
No more to its motion, o'er Sleep's fairy ocean,
Our play-weary wayfarers peacefully glide;
The Periwinkle Girl
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I've often thought that headstrong youths
Of decent education,
Determine all-important truths,
With strange precipitation.
The Good Shepherd With The Kid
© Matthew Arnold
_He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save._
So rang Tertullian's sentence, on the side
Of that unpitying Phrygian Sect which cried:
"Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave,
Saarijarven Paavo
© Johan Ludvig Runeberg
Paavo took the good-wife´s hand and spake thus:
"Nay, the Lord but trieth, not forsaketh,
Mix thou in the bread a half of bark now,
I shall dig out twice as many ditches,
And await then from the Lord the increase.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XL
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
'Tis strange we are thus parted, not by death
Or man's device, but by our own mad will,
We who have stood together on life's path
The Eve of St. John
© Sir Walter Scott
The baron of Smaylho'me rose with day,
He spurr'd his courser on,
Without stop or stay, down the rocky way,
That leads to Brotherstone.
The Morning Quatrains
© Charles Cotton
THE cock has crow'd an hour ago,
'Tis time we now dull sleep forego;