Good poems
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Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 02 - Against Teleological Concept
© Lucretius
And walking now
In his own footprints, I do follow through
Sir Lark and King Sun
© George MacDonald
"Good morrow, my lord!" in the sky alone
Sang the lark as the sun ascended his throne.
"Shine on me, my lord: I only am come,
Of all your servants, to welcome you home!
I have shot straight up, a whole hour, I swear,
To catch the first gleam of your golden hair."
Paracelsus: Part IV: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Festus.
So strange
That I must hope, indeed, your messenger
Has mingled his own fancies with the words
Purporting to be yours.
Notions
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Myrtie, my notion of no one to write about
Seems to be any one other than you;
Therefore, Myrtilla, I'm penning to-night about
Twelve anapestic good verses and true.
At The Banquet To the Japanese Embassy
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WE welcome you, Lords of the Land of the Sun!
The voice of the many sounds feebly through one;
Ah! would 't were a voice of more musical tone,
But the dog-star is here, and the song-birds have flown.
Alsace-Lorraine
© George Meredith
Yet the like aerial growths may chance be the delicate sprays,
Infant of Earth's most urgent in sap, her fierier zeal
For entry on Life's upper fields: and soul thus flourishing pays
The martyr's penance, mark for brutish in man to heel.
The School-Mistress
© William Shenstone
Auditae voces, vagitus et ingens,
Infantunque animae flentes in limine primo. ~ Virg.
John and Freddy
© William Schwenck Gilbert
JOHN courted lovely MARY ANN,
So likewise did his brother, FREDDY.
FRED was a very soft young man,
While JOHN, though quick, was most unsteady.
Psalm 23
© Sir Philip Sidney
The Lord, the Lord, my Shepherd is,
And so can never I
Taste misery:
He rests me in green pastures His:
By waters still and sweet,
He guides my feet.
The Ride Of Rody Burke
© Alice Guerin Crist
The heat haze veiled the distant hills, the white clouds floated high,
Drifting in slow content across the blue Australian sky;
And down in Clancys paddock there were mirth and laughter gay,
Where the She-Oak Jockey Club were met upon St. Patricks day.
The Wind And The Whirlwind
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I have a thing to say. But how to say it?
I have a cause to plead. But to what ears?
How shall I move a world by lamentation,
A world which heeded not a Nation's tears?
An Epistle To Joseph Hill, Esq.
© William Cowper
Dear Joseph,-- five and twenty years ago--
Alas! how time escapes -- 'tis even so!--
