Good poems
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When Mother's Sewing Buttons On
© Edgar Albert Guest
When mother's sewing buttons on
Their little garments, one by one,
Satyr IV. The Pretty Gentleman
© Thomas Parnell
As on this head he woud have spoken more
the Jailour happend to unlock the door
to lett him know his creditors did wait
to make him sell if he woud freedom gett
At least three quarters of his whole estate
Kick It Again
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
So you heard there was a spark of love that I have for you
You come back to kill it like you always do
You found it weak and tremblin' hangin' on just by a thread
And you kicked it choke it stepped on it and broke it left it half to death
Conversation
© William Cowper
Though nature weigh our talents, and dispense
To every man his modicum of sense,
Who Santy-Claus Wuz
© James Whitcomb Riley
Jes' a little bit o' feller--I remember still--
Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a youngster will.
Pippa Passes: Part II: Noon
© Robert Browning
You by me,
And I by you; this is your hand in mine,
And side by side we sit: all's true. Thank God!
I have spoken: speak you!
Spring Song
© Bliss William Carman
Like a whim of Grieg's or Gounod's,
This same self, bird, bud, or Bluenose,
Some day I may capture (Who knows?)
Just the one last joy I lack,
Waking to the far new summons,
When the old spring winds come back.
An Epigram From Homer
© William Cowper
Pay me my price, potters! and I will sing.
Attend, O Pallas! and with lifted arm
In The Harbour: Sundown
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The summer sun is sinking low;
Only the tree-tops redden and glow:
Only the weathercock on the spire
Of the neighboring church is a flame of fire;
All is in shadow below.
To The Honourable Mrs. Percival.
© Mary Barber
Then let good Heav'n withhold, or grant Success,
Add to a Weight of Cares, or make it less;
By you protected, I no more repine:
How few can boast an Happiness like mine!
A Bliss so great can Wealth, or Pow'r, impart,
As one fix'd Friend, with such a Head, and Heart?
Reflections On Having Left A Place Of Retirement
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sermoni propriora.~ Horace
Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest Rose
Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear
At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
Manfred: A Dramatic Poem. Act II.
© George Gordon Byron
CHAMOIS HUNTER
No, no -- yet pause -- thou must not yet go forth:
Thy mind and body are alike unfit
To trust each other, for some hours, at least;
When thou art better, I will be thy guide--
But whither?
Sonnet III
© George Gascoigne
And every year a world my will did deem,
Till lo! at last, to Court now am I come,
Araluen
© Henry Kendall
Take this rose, and very gently place it on the tender, deep
Mosses where our little darling, Araluen, lies asleep.
Boulogne To Amiens And Paris (3 to 11 P.M.; 3rd Class)
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Strong extreme speed, that the brain hurries with,
Further than trees, and hedges, and green grass
A Chord Of Colour
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
My Lady clad herself in grey,
That caught and clung about her throat;
The Song of Ninian Melville
© Henry Kendall
Sing the song of noisy Ninny - hang the Muses - spit it out!
(Tuneful Nine ye needn't help me - poet knows his way about!)
