Good poems
/ page 176 of 545 /The Speculators
© William Makepeace Thackeray
The night was stormy and dark,
The town was shut up in sleep:
Only those were abroad who were out on a lark,
Or those who'd no beds to keep.
Additions: The Fire at Tranter Sweatley's
© Thomas Hardy
She cried, "O pray pity me!" Nought would he hear;
Then with wild rainy eyes she obeyed,
She chid when her Love was for clinking off wi' her.
The pa'son was told, as the season drew near
To throw over pu'pit the names of the peäir
As fitting one flesh to be made.
Troop Train
© Karl Shapiro
It stops the town we come through. Workers raise
Their oily arms in good salute and grin.
Understanding
© Edgar Albert Guest
When I was young and frivolous and never stopped to think,
When I was always doing wrong, or just upon the brink;
When I was just a lad of seven and eight and nine and ten,
It seemed to me that every day I got in trouble then,
And strangers used to shake their heads and say I was no good,
But father always stuck to me it seems he understood.
The Phantom Curate
© William Schwenck Gilbert
A bishop once - I will not name him see -
Annoyed his clergy in the mode conventional;
From pulpit shackles never set them free,
And found a sin where sin was unintentional.
All pleasures ended in abuse auricular -
The Bishop was so terribly particular.
Shakuntala Act 1
© Kalidasa
King Dushyant in a chariot, pursuing an antelope, with a bow and quiver, attended by his Charioteer.
Suta (Charioteer). [Looking at the antelope, and then at the king]
When I cast my eye on that black antelope, and on thee, O king, with thy braced bow, I see before me, as it were, the God Mahésa chasing a hart (male deer), with his bow, named Pináca, braced in his left hand.
On Messrs Hussey and Coffin
© Phillis Wheatley
Did Fear and Danger so perplex your Mind,
As made you fearful of the Whistling Wind?
The Secretary
© Matthew Prior
While with labour assiduous due pleasure I mix,
And in one day atone for the business of six,
The Duty Of A Brother
© Charles Lamb
Why on your sister do you look,
Octavius, with an eye of scorn,
As scarce her presence you could brook?-
Under one roof you both were born.
The Impetuous Breeze And The Diplomatic Sun
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
A Boston man an ulster had,
An ulster with a cape that fluttered:
It smacked his face, and made him mad,
And polyglot remarks he uttered:
"I bought it at a bargain," said he,
"I'm tired of the thing already."
Come Si Quando
© Robert Seymour Bridges
How thickly the far fields of heaven are strewn with stars !
Tho* the open eye of day shendeth them with its glare
Something Nasty In The Bookshop
© Kingsley Amis
Between the Gardening and the Cookery
Comes the brief Poetry shelf;
By the Nonesuch Donne, a thin anthology
Offers itself.
Once Pope Under Jevais Resolvd To Adventure
© Thomas Parnell
Once Pope under Jevais resolvd to adventure
& from a Good Poet Pope turnd an ill painter
So from a Good Painter Charles Jervais we hope
May turn an ill Poet by living with Pope
Then Each may perform the true parts of a friend
While each will have something to blame or commend
The Pine
© Augusta Davies Webster
The elm lets fall its leaves before the frost,
The very oak grows shivering and sere,
The trees are barren when the summer's lost:
But one tree keeps its goodness all the year.
As A Strong Bird On Pinious Free
© Walt Whitman
. As a strong bird on pinions free,
Joyous, the amplest spaces heavenward cleaving,
Such be the thought I'd think to-day of thee, America,
Such be the recitative I'd bring to-day for thee.
Trees
© Bliss William Carman
IN the Garden of Eden, planted by God,
There were goodly trees in the springing sod,
Trees of beauty and height and grace,
To stand in splendor before His face.
Idyll VII. Harvest-Home
© Theocritus
He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I.
"I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells,
Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs,
Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus.
But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first:
Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well.
A Poetical Version Of A Letter From Facob Behmen
© John Byrom
TIS Mans own Nature, which in its own Life,
Or Centre, stands in Enmity and Strife,