Good poems
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I Grieved For Buonaparte
© William Wordsworth
I GRIEVED for Buonaparte, with a vain
And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood
Of that Man's mind--what can it be? what food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could 'he' gain?
The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - Ara Of The Saints
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Hearing how blessed Enda lived apart,
Amid the sacred caves of Ara-mhor,
And how beneath his eye, spread like a chart,
Lay all the isles of that remotest shore;
The Dance To Death. Act II
© Emma Lazarus
LANDGRAVE.
Who tells thee of my son's love for the Jewess?
The Revenge - A Ballad of the Fleet
© Alfred Tennyson
Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: 'I know you are no coward;
You fly them for a moment to fight with them again.
But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore.
I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard,
To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain.'
Tale VIII
© George Crabbe
grace?" -
"He knew she hated every watering-place."
"The town?"--"What! now 'twas empty, joyless,
Leave off the Agony in Style
© Julia A Moore
Come all ye good people, listen to me, pray,
While I speak of fashion and style of today;
If you will notice, kind hearts it will beguile,
To keep in fashion and putting on style.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - February
© George MacDonald
1.
I TO myself have neither power nor worth,
The Bleeding Rock: Or, The Metamorphosis Of A Nymph Into Stone
© Hannah More
Too soon he heard of fair Ianthe's fame,
'Twas each enamour'd Shepherd's fav'rite theme;
Return'd the rising, and the setting sun,
The Shepherd's fav'rite theme was never done.
They prais'd her wit, her worth, her shape, her air!
And even interior beauties own'd her fair.
Hermann And Dorothea - IX. Urania
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
O YE Muses, who gladly favour a love that is heartfelt,
Who on his way the excellent youth have hitherto guided,
Who have press'd the maid to his bosom before their betrothal,
Help still further to perfect the bonds of a couple so loving,
Drive away the clouds which over their happiness hover!
But begin by saying what now in the house has been passing.
Subjected Earth
© Robinson Jeffers
Walking in the flat Oxfordshire fields
Where the eye can find no rock to rest on but little flints
December Notes by Nancy McCleery: American Life in Poetry #39 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-20
© Ted Kooser
Many of us keep journals, but while doing so few of us pay much attention to selecting the most precise words, to determining their most effective order, to working with effective pauses and breath-like pacing, to presenting an engaging impression of a single, unique day. This poem by Nebraskan Nancy McCleery is a good example of one poet’s carefully recorded observations.
December Notes
The backyard is one white sheet
Where we read in the bird tracks
Post Mortem Conspectu
© Ezra Pound
A brown, fat babe sitting in the lotus,
And you were glad and laughing
With a laughter not of this world.
It is good to splash in the water
And laughter is the end of all things.
The Old Tune
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THIS shred of song you bid me bring
Is snatched from fancy's embers;
Ah, when the lips forget to sing,
The faithful heart remembers!
Bridegroom Dick
© Herman Melville
All this, old lassie, you have heard before,
But you listen again for the sake e'en o' me;
No babble stales o' the good times o' yore
To Joan, if Darby the babbler be.
What Of The Day
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A SOUND of tumult troubles all the air,
Like the low thunders of a sultry sky
Far-rolling ere the downright lightnings glare;
The hills blaze red with warnings; foes draw nigh,
Feri's Dream
© Frances Darwin Cornford
I Had a little dog, and my dog was very small;
He licked me in the face, and he answered to my call;
Of all the treasures that were mine, I loved him most of all.
Paradise Lost : Book III.
© John Milton
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn,
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam
