Good poems
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Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."
Urania, or Spiritual Poems: Sonnet 2 - Too long I followed have
© William Henry Drummond
Too long I followed have my fond desire,
And too long painted on the ocean streams;
from The Bridge: Cutty Sark
© Hart Crane
“I ran a donkey engine down there on the Canal
in Panama—got tired of that—
then Yucatan selling kitchenware—beads—
have you seen Popocatepetl—birdless mouth
with ashes sifting down—?
and then the coast again . . . ”
Dream Song 29
© John Berryman
There sat down, once, a thing on Henry’s heart
só heavy, if he had a hundred years
& more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time
Henry could not make good.
Starts again always in Henry’s ears
the little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime.
The Mother of Three
© Katharine Tynan
Oh, to have a little farm,
A little hearth so warm and bright,
And three little boys all safe from harm
In from the winter night!
A Holy Week Song, 1918
© Katharine Tynan
Now when Christ died for man his sake
A myriad men must die;
The Departed
© Edgar Albert Guest
IF no one ever went ahead,
If we had seen no friend depart
And mourned him for a while as dead,
How great would be our fear to start.
An English Peasant
© George Crabbe
To pomp and pageantry in nought allied,
A noble peasant, Isaac Ashford, died.
A Birthday Greeting: To My Little Nephew
© Annie McCarer Darlington
I know a happy little boy,
They call him Charlie Gray,
Whose face is bright, because you know,
He's six years old to-day.
Hannah
© Thomas Parnell
Then Seek ye Subject & its song be mine
Whose numbers next in Sacred story shine;
Go brightly-working thought, prepard to fly
Above ye page on hov'ring pinnions ly,
& beat with stronger force to make thee rise
Where beautious Hannah meets ye searching eyes.
A Poem: To The Memory of Mrs. Oldfield
© Richard Savage
Oldfield's no more!-And can the Muse forbear,
O'er Oldfield's Grave to shed a grateful Tear?
Ode Read At The One Hundreth Anniversary Of The Fight At Concord Bridge
© James Russell Lowell
I
Who cometh over the hills,
They are hostile nations
© Margaret Atwood
In view of the fading animals
the proliferation of sewers and fears
the sea clogging, the air
nearing extinction
from The Vanity of Human Wishes
© Henry James Pye
Yet still one genral cry the skies assails,
And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
Few know the toiling statesmans fear or care,
Th insidious rival and the gaping heir.
America
© Phillis Wheatley
New England first a wilderness was found
Till for a continent 'twas destin'd round
The Bounty
© Derek Walcott
Between the vision of the Tourist Board and the true
Paradise lies the desert where Isaiah’s elations
force a rose from the sand. The thirty-third canto
Good-Bye
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home:
Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine.
Long through thy weary crowds I roam;
A river-ark on the ocean brine,
Long I've been tossed like the driven foam;
But now, proud world! I'm going home.
Glory To God; To Men Good Will!
© Joseph Furphy
Opposed to Jewish Temple-rites,
Strange to the lore of Greece,
That message comes from starry heights,
A key to lasting Peace.
What-e'er our creed, we own its thrill
"Glory to God; to men good will!"
from Fanny
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
Dear to the exile is his native land,
In memory’s twilight beauty seen afar:
Dear to the broker is a note of hand,
Collaterally secured—the polar star
Is dear at midnight to the sailor’s eyes,
And dear are Bristed’s volumes at “half price;”
