Good poems
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A Man's Repentance
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
To-night when I came from the club at eleven,
Under the gaslight I saw a face-
A woman's face! and I swear to heaven
It looked like the ghastly ghost of-Grace!
My Last Farewell To Stirling
© Robert Burns
Nae lark in transport mounts the sky
Or leaves wi' early plaintive cry,
But I will bid a last good-bye,
My last farewell to Stirling O.
Farewell to London
© Alexander Pope
Dear, damn'd distracting town, farewell!
Thy fools no more I'll tease:
This year in peace, ye critics, dwell,
Ye harlots, sleep at ease!
Foreword to Weeds By The Wall
© Madison Julius Cawein
_In the first rare spring of song,
In my heart's young hours,
In my youth 't was thus I sang,
Choosing 'mid the flowers:--_
To Dr. Moore,
© Helen Maria Williams
IN ANSWER TO A POETICAL EPISTLE WRITTEN TO
ME BY HIM IN WALES, SEPTEMBER 1791.
If I To You But Sorry Bring
© Alfred Austin
If I to you but sorrow bring,
But aching hours and brackish tears,
Good Temper
© Charles Lamb
In whatsoever place resides
Good Temper, she o'er all presides;
The most obdurate heart she guides.
Per mels cobrir lo mal pes (Anne)
© Bernard de Ventadorn
Per melhs cobrir lo mal pes e.l cossire
chan e deport et ai joi e solatz;
e fatz esfortz car sai chantar ni rire,
car eu me mor e nul semblan no.n fatz;
e per Amor sui si apoderatz,
tot m'a vencut a forsa e batalha.
Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth
© Ovid
The End of the Thirteenth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
To The Right Honble. The Lady Dowager Torrington,
© Mary Barber
When you command, the Muse obeys,
Proud to present her humble Lays.
Of writing I'll no more repent,
Nor think my Time unwisely spent;
If Verse the Happiness procures
Of pleasing such a Soul as yours.
Others Successes
© Edgar Albert Guest
CAN you go to another who wins in the fight
And give him a hand-shake that "s true?
The Runaways/ Les Effares
© Arthur Rimbaud
Dark against the snow and fog,
At the big lit-up vent,
Their butts in a huddle,
Five urchins, kneeling - wretched! -
Watch the baker making
Loaves of heavy blond bread.
The Ant
© Richard Lovelace
Forbear, thou great good husband, little ant;
A little respite from thy flood of sweat!
Thou, thine own horse and cart under this plant,
Thy spacious tent, fan thy prodigious heat;
Down with thy double load of that one grain!
It is a granarie for all thy train.
Sonnet VII
© George Gascoigne
No haste but good, where wisdom makes the way,
For proof whereof behold the simple snail
The Mantle Of St. John De Matha. A Legend Of "The Red, White, And Blue," A. D. 1154-1864
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A STRONG and mighty Angel,
Calm, terrible, and bright,
The cross in blended red and blue
Upon his mantle white!
Magi
© Sylvia Plath
The abstracts hover like dull angels:
Nothing so vulgar as a nose or an eye
Bossing the ethereal blanks of their face-ovals.
To Sir Henry Goodyere
© John Donne
WHO makes the last a pattern for next year,
Turns no new leaf, but still the same things reads ;
Seen things he sees again, heard things doth hear,
And makes his life but like a pair of beads.
The Wolf And The Lamb
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
She had hair gold as her father's corn;
She tripped and sung,
Written in London. September, 1802
© William Wordsworth
O Friend! I know not which way I must look
For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,
