Good poems

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Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Prefatory Dialogue

© John Kenyon

Ye, thus who write in spite of critic law,
How had their satire kept your freaks in awe!
And, to sole sway controlling her pretence,
Bound Fancy down to compromise with Sense!

Enamored Architect Of Airy Rhyme

© Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Enamored architect of airy rhyme,

Build as thou wilt, heed not what each man says:

My Daughters In New York

© James Reiss

What streets, what taxis transport them

over bridges & speed bumps-my daughters swift

March

© William Carlos Williams

But! now for the battle!
Now for murder-now for the real thing!
My third springtime is approaching!
Winds!
lean, serious as a virgin,
seeking, seeking the flowers of March.

Five Zouaves killed! - one thousand in all -
Five from a thousand? Then he may be one.
If in the havoc of bayonet and ball,
So many were killed, one may be my son.
And death, to the boy, all the glory he won.

On The Death of Mr. Snider Murder'd By Richardson

© Phillis Wheatley

In heavens eternal court it was decreed

How the first martyr for the cause should bleed

On The Completion Of A Royal Palace

© Confucius

On yonder banks a palace, lo! upshoots,
The tender blue of southern hill behind;
Firm-founded, like the bamboo's clamping roots;
Its roof made pine-like, to a point defined.
Fraternal love here bears its precious fruits,
And unfraternal schemes be ne'er designed!

The Ring And The Book - Chapter X - The Pope

© Robert Browning

Then Stephen, Pope and seventh of the name,
Cried out, in synod as he sat in state,
While choler quivered on his brow and beard,
Come into court, Formosus, thou lost wretch,
That claimedst to be late the Pope as I!

The Ballad Of The White Lady

© Edith Nesbit

SIR GEOFFREY met the white lady
Upon his marriage morn,
Her eyes were blue as cornflowers are,
Her hair was gold like corn.

Sonnet LXIX: Autumn Idleness

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

This sunlight shames November where he grieves

In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun

How Mary Grew

© John Greenleaf Whittier

With wisdom far beyond her years,
And graver than her wondering peers,
So strong, so mild, combining still
The tender heart and queenly will,
To conscience and to duty true,
So, up from childhood, Mary Grew!

Baby Wrens’ Voices by Thomas R. Smith : American Life in Poetry #232 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Lau

© Ted Kooser

I’ve built many wren houses since my wife and I moved to the country 25 years ago. It’s a good thing to do in the winter. At one point I had so many extra that in the spring I set up at a local farmers’ market and sold them for five dollars apiece. I say all this to assert that I am an authority at listening to the so small voices that Thomas R. Smith captures in this poem. Smith lives in Wisconsin. Baby Wrens’ Voices

I am a student of wrens.

Of Judgement

© John Bunyan

As 'tis appointed men should die,
So judgment is the next
That meets them most assuredly;
For so saith holy text.

Eclogue:--The Lotments

Zoo you be in your groun' then, I do zee,
A-workèn and a-zingèn lik' a bee.
How do it answer? what d'ye think about it?
D'ye think 'tis better wi' it than without it?
A-recknèn rent, an' time, an' zeed to stock it,
D'ye think that you be any thing in pocket?

Don Juans Good-Night

Teach me, gentle Leporello,
Since you are so wise a fellow,
How your master I may win.
Leporello answers gaily
Slip into his bed and way lay
Him; anon he shall come in.

The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11

SCARCE had the rosy Morning raisd her head

Above the waves, and left her watry bed;

The Sleeping Beauty

© Henry Lawson

Call that a yarn! said old Tom Pugh,
What rot! Ill lay my hat
Ill sling you a yarn worth more nor two
Such pumped-up yarns as that.
And thereupon old Tommy slew
A yarn of Lambing Flat.