Good poems
/ page 150 of 545 /
The Brothers
© Madison Julius Cawein
Not far from here, it lies beyond
That low-hilled belt of woods. We'll take
This unused lane where brambles make
A wall of twilight, and the blond
Brier-roses pelt the path and flake
The margin waters of a pond.
The Tower Beyond Tragedy
© Robinson Jeffers
I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
Meru
© William Butler Yeats
Civilisation is hooped together, brought
Under a rule, under the semblance of peace
De Critters' Dance
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ain't nobody nevah tol' you not a wo'd a-tall,
'Bout de time dat all de critters gin dey fancy ball?
Some folks tell it in a sto'y, some folks sing de rhyme,
'Peahs to me you ought to hyeahed it, case hit 's ol' ez time.
Celia To Damon
© Matthew Prior
What can I say? What Arguments can prove
My Truth? What Colors can describe my Love?
If it's Excess and Fury be not known,
In what Thy Celia has already done?
The Shattered Dream
© Edgar Albert Guest
I WAS somewhere off in Europe spending money like a king,
Owned a yacht like J. P. Morgan's, when the 'phone began to ring;
I was entertaining princes, dukes and earls, when wifie said:
"It's the telephone that's ringing, you must hustle out of bed."
And I wandered down the stairway, grumbling o'er my vanished joy,
Growled: "Hello;" and then he shouted: "You're an uncle! It's a boy!"
Quinti Catuli.
© Richard Lovelace
QUINTI CATULI.
Constiteram exorientem Auroram forte salutans,
Cum subito a laeva Roscius exoritur.
Pace mihi liceat, coelestes, dicere vestra.
This is No Case of Petty Right or Wrong
© Edward Thomas
This is no case of petty right or wrong
That politicians or philosophers
Quatrains
© Harriet Monroe
I
Give to brave deeds emblazoned shrines
Where reverent memories may throng.
For them Art draws her perfect lines
In stone, in color, and in song.
A Thanksgiving For F. D. Maurice
© George MacDonald
The veil hath lifted and hath fallen; and him
Who next it stood before us, first so long,
We see not; but between the cherubim
The light burns clearer: come-a thankful song!
Poor Patriarch by Susie Patlove : American Life in Poetry #245 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
I love the way the following poem by Susie Patlove opens, with the little rooster trying to “be what he feels he must be.” This poet lives in Massachusetts, in a community called Windy Hill, which must be a very good place for chickens, too.
Poor Patriarch
The rooster pushes his head
A Good Night
© Francis Quarles
Close now thine eyes and rest secure;
Thy soul is safe enough, thy body sure;
Tale II
© George Crabbe
frame.
Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay,
Was Allen landing in his native bay,
Willing his breathless form should blend with
Sir Lancelot Du Lake
© Thomas Percy
When Arthur first in court began,
And was approvèd king,
By force of armes great victorys wonne,
And conquest home did bring;
Three Day's Ride
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"FROM Belton Castle to Solway side,
Hard by the bridge, is three days' ride."
The Regiment of Princes
© Thomas Hoccleve
Musynge upon the restlees bysynesse
Which that this troubly world hath ay on honde,
A Thanksgiving and Prayer for the Nation
© Thomas Traherne
From A Serious and Pathetical Contemplation of the Mercies of God
O Lord, the children of my people are Thy peculiar treasures,
The Cōuercyon of Swerers
© Stephen Hawes
The fruytfull sentence & the noble werkes
To our doctryne wryten in olde antyquyte
By many grete and ryght notable clerkes
Grounded on reason & hyghe auctoryte
