Good poems

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Birthday Verses

© Thomas Hood

Good morrow to the golden morning,
Good morrow to the world's delight—
I've come to bless thy life's beginning,
Since it makes my own so bright!

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The Wheels Of The System

© George Essex Evans

Where is God, whilst all around us sounds the jarring of the wheels,
When the cry of human anguish starwards thro’ His glory steals?
There is neither hope nor pity underneath the moving wheels.
Woe to him who slips or falters whilst the wheels are moving on!
Woe to him who stays to breathe him when the goal is nearly won!
There they lie—and lie for ever—over whom the wheels have gone!

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Brookwell

© William Barnes

Well, I do zay 'tis wo'th woone's while

  To beät the doust a good six mile

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Encore

© Anonymous

The singer stood in a blaze of light,
And fronted the flowery throng;
Her lips parted with her greeting smile,
Her soul soared out in her song.

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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Such were the words he spake; and soon the fleet
Had dared the angry deep: but Cato's voice
While praising, calmed the youthful chieftain's rage.

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The Pastime of Pleasure: Of dysposycyon the II. parte of rethoryke - (til line 2240)

© Stephen Hawes

Amoure.
2136 Alas madame / now the bryght lodes sterre
2137 Of my true herte / where euer I go or ryde
2138 Thoughe that my body / be frome you aferr
2139 Yet my herte onely / shall with you abyde
2140 Whan than you lyste / ye maye for me prouyde

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Marthy Ellen

© James Whitcomb Riley

They's nothin' in the name to strike

  A feller more'n common like!

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Remembrance

© Friedrich Hölderlin

The northeast blows,
my favorite among winds,
since it promises fiery spirit
and a good voyage to mariners.

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At Night

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Whut time 'd dat clock strike? Nine? No—eight;

I didn't think hit was so late.

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Old-Fashioned Folks

© Edgar Albert Guest

OLD-FASHIONED folks! God bless  'em all!

The fathers an' the mothers,

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On Leaving Italy, For The Summer, On Account Of Health

© Richard Monckton Milnes

Thou summer--land! that dost put on the sun
Not as a dress of pomp occasional,
But as thy natural and most fitting one,--
Yet still thy Beauty has its festival,

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The Cup Of Joy

© Madison Julius Cawein

Let us mix a cup of Joy
  That the wretched may employ,
  Whom the Fates have made their toy.

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Natural Theology

© Andrew Lang

So Qing, King Nqsha's Bushman hunter, spoke,
  Beside the camp-fire, by the fountain fair,
When all were weary, and soft clouds of smoke
  Were fading, fragrant, in the twilit air:
And suddenly in each man's heart there woke
  A pang, a sacred memory of prayer.

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Expostulation

© William Cowper

Why weeps the muse for England? What appears

In England's case to move the muse to tears?

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Wash Lowry's Reminiscence

© James Whitcomb Riley

And you're the poet of this concern?

  I've seed your name in print

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Fantasia

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

KISS mine eyelids, beauteous Morn,
Blushing into life new-born!
Lend me violets for my hair,
And thy russet robe to wear,
And thy ring of rosiest hue
Set in drops of diamond dew!

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Hermann And Dorothea - VIII. Melpomene

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

But she conceal'd the pain which she felt, and jestingly spoke thus
"It betokens misfortune,--so scrupulous people inform us,--
For the foot to give way on entering a house, near the threshold.
I should have wish'd, in truth, for a sign of some happier omen!
Let us tarry a little, for fear your parents should blame you
For their limping servant, and you should be thought a bad landlord."

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Hope On

© Charles Harpur

Power's a cheat, success but trying,

 Even pleasure bears a sting;

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Say Goodbye when your Chum is Married

© Henry Lawson

Now this is a rhyme that might well be carried

  Gummed in your hat till the end of things:

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Lost Mr. Blake

© William Schwenck Gilbert

He was quite indifferent as to the particular kinds of dresses
That the clergyman wore at church where he used to go to pray,
And whatever he did in the way of relieving a chap's distresses,
He always did in a nasty, sneaking, underhanded, hole-and-corner
sort of way.