Good poems
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The Orange-Peel In The Gutter
© Mathilde Blind
BEHOLD, unto myself I said,
This place how dull and desolate,
Tyranny.
© Sidney Lanier
"Spring-germs, spring-germs,
I charge you by your life, go back to death.
This glebe is sick, this wind is foul of breath.
Stay: feed the worms.
An Epistle To Fleetwood Shephard, Esq. Burleigh, May 14, 1689
© Matthew Prior
Sir,
As once a twelvemonth to the priest,
The Angler's Ballad
© Charles Cotton
AWAY to the brook,
All your tackle out look,
Here's a day that is worth a year's wishing;
See that all things be right,
For 'tis a very spite
To want tools when a man goes a-fishing.
When Rody Came To Ironbark
© Alice Guerin Crist
When Rody came to Ironbark, 'twas fun to watch the girls,
Such sorting out of frills and frocks such pinning up of curls,
there were no 'bob's no 'shingles' then but ringlets floated down,
and the the curling tongs worked overtime, when Rody came to town.
The Deer-Stone
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
And in a hollowed stone it shed
Its milk so warm and white,
And then, all timid, stood apart
To watch the babe's delight.
Worship
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Pagan's myths through marble lips are spoken,
And ghosts of old Beliefs still flit and moan
Round fane and altar overthrown and broken,
O'er tree-grown barrow and gray ring of stone.
Chicago Castanets
© George Ade
Through all the moving thoroughfares
And in the contending marts of trade;
Clifton Chapel
© Sir Henry Newbolt
This is the Chapel: here, my son,
Your father thought the thoughts of youth,
Unto my Booksso good to turn
© Emily Dickinson
Unto my Booksso good to turn
Far ends of tired Days
It half endears the Abstinence
And Painis missedin Praise
Obedience
© George Herbert
My God, if writings may
Convey a Lordship any way
Whither the buyer and the seller please;
Let it not thee displease,
If this poore paper do as much as they.
The Grandmother
© Alfred Tennyson
And Willy, my eldest-born, is gone, you say, little Anne?
Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man.
And Willy's wife has written: she never was over-wise,
Never the wife for Willy: he would n't take my advice.
Canzone
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Ah me! ah me! when thinking of the years,
The vanished years, alas, I do not find
Behind The House Is The Millet Plot
© Muna Lee
Behind the house is the millet plot,
And past the millet, the stile;
And then a hill where melilot
Grows with wild camomile.
Oh Albania, Poor Albania
© Pashko Vasa
Gather round, maidens, gather round, women
Who with your fair eyes know what weeping is,
Come, let us lament poor Albania,
Who is without honour and reputation,
She has become a widow, a woman with no husband,
She is like a mother who has never had a son!
Doctor Hilaire
© William Henry Drummond
A stranger might say if he see heem drink till he almos' fall,
"Doctor lak dat for sick folk, hes never no use at all,"
But wait till you hear de story dey 're tellin' about heem yet,
An' see if you don't hear somet'ing, mebbe you won't forget.
What Grandpa Mouse Said
© Vachel Lindsay
The moons a holy owl-queen.
She keeps them in a jar
Under her arm till evening,
Then sallies forth to war.
The Country Ride
© Kenneth Slessor
EARTH which has known so many passages
Of April air, so many marriages
Of strange and lovely atoms breeding light,
Never may find again that lost delight.
