Good poems
/ page 227 of 545 /
A Farewell
© Alfred Austin
Hark! What is that we hear?
A quick-jerked, jocund peal,
Making the fretted church tower reel,
Telling the wakeful of a young New Year,
Young, but of lusty birth,
To face the masked vicissitudes of earth.
The Jolly Dead March
© Henry Lawson
If I ever be worthy or famous
Which Im sadly beginning to doubt
To Mrs. Goodchild
© Charles Stuart Calverley
The night-wind's shriek is pitiless and hollow,
The boding bat flits by on sullen wing,
And I sit desolate, like that "one swallow"
Who found (with horror) that he'd not brought spring:
Lonely as he who erst with venturous thumb
Drew from its pie-y lair the solitary plum.
The Vision Of Echard
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Benedictine Echard
Sat by the wayside well,
Where Marsberg sees the bridal
Of the Sarre and the Moselle.
The Responsibility Of Fatherhood
© Edgar Albert Guest
BEFORE you came, my little lad,
I used to think that I was good,
A Book of Dreams: Part II
© George MacDonald
A great church in an empty square,
A place of echoing tones;
Feet pass not oft enough to wear
The grass between the stones.
Tree, Old Tree Of The Triple Crook
© William Ernest Henley
Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Crook
And the rope of the Black Election,
A National Song for Australia Felix
© Anonymous
Dark over the face of Nature sublime
Reign'd tyranny, warfare, and every crime;
The world a desert - no oasis green
A man-loving soul on its surface had seen;
A Postscript unto the Reader
© Michael Wigglesworth
And now good Reader, I return again
To talk with thee, who hast been at the pain
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto VI.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
IV A Riddle Solved
Kind souls, you wonder why, love you,
When you, you wonder why, love none.
We love, Fool, for the good we do,
Not that which unto us is done!
After The Burial
© James Russell Lowell
YES, faith is a goodly anchor;
When skies are sweet as a psalm,
At the bows it lolls so stalwart,
In bluff, broad-shouldered calm.
Pessimoptimism
© James Russell Lowell
Ye little think what toil it was to build
A world of men imperfect even as this,
A Deepe Groane Fetch'd at the Funerall of that incomparable and Glorious Monarch, CHARLES THE FIRST
© Henry King
To speak our Griefes as full over thy Tombe
(Great Soul) we should be Thunder-struck, and dumbe:
Remonstrance
© James Joseph Sylvester
Oh! why those narrow rules extol?
These but restrain from ill,
True virtue lies in strength of soul
And energy of will.
The House By The Side Of The Road
© Sam Walter Foss
There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
The Locomotive
© Julian Tuwim
A big locomotive has pulled into town,
Heavy, humungus, with sweat rolling down,
A plump jumbo olive.
Huffing and puffing and panting and smelly,
Fire belches forth from her fat cast iron belly.
An Hymne In Honour Of Beautie
© Edmund Spenser
Ah! whither, Love! wilt thou now carry mee?
What wontlesse fury dost thou now inspire
Into my feeble breast, too full of thee?
Whylest seeking to aslake thy raging fyre,
O'Hara, J.P.
© Henry Lawson
James Patrick O'Hara the Justice of Peace,
He bossed the P.M. and he bossed the police;
A parent, a deacon, a landlord was he
A townsman of weight was OHara, J.P.
