Good poems
/ page 365 of 545 /A Parental Ode to My Son, Aged 3 Years and 5 months
© Thomas Hood
Thou happy, happy elf!
(But stop,first let me kiss away that tear)
Thou tiny image of myself!
(My love, he's poking peas into his ear!)
An Essay on Death and a Prison
© Henry King
A prison is in all things like a grave,
Where we no better priviledges have
Then dead men, nor so good. The soul once fled
Lives freer now, then when she was cloystered
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME--A CHRISTMAS SONNET
Since thou hast given me these, Juliet, given me these,
There have been tidings told of a great joy,
Of peace on Earth, good--will without annoy.
Sylvia's Mother
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's busy,
too busy to come to the phone .
Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's trying
to start a new life of her own.
Sylvia's mother says "Sylvia's happy...
So why don't you leave her alone?"
Tatiana's Letter
© Alexander Pushkin
Allotted unto you was I
E'en from the moment of my birth
And loyal to my future fate;
And God, I know, sent you to be
My champion and my advocate
Till the grave closes over me. . . .
The Habitants Jubilee Ode
© William Henry Drummond
Of course w'en we t'ink it de firs' go off, I know very strange it seem
For fader of us dey was offen die for flag of L'Ancien Regime,
From day w'en de voyageurs come out all de way from ole St. Malo,
Flyin' dat flag from de mas' above, an' long affer dat also.
Welcome To The Chicago Commercial Club
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
CHICAGO sounds rough to the maker of verse;
One comfort we have--Cincinnati sounds worse;
If we only were licensed to say Chicago!
But Worcester and Webster won't let us, you know.
The Disgrace Of Poverty
© Edgar Albert Guest
The lady what comes up to our house t' wash
Is awfully poor, an' she's got
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Day.
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays
The Lamb Skin
© Edgar Albert Guest
It is not ornamental, the cost is not great,
There are other things far more useful, yet truly I state,
Though of all my possesions, there's none can compare,
With that white leather apron, which all Masons wear.
To Life's Pilgrim
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Savor no more than thee behoven shall,
Rede well thy self that other folk can'st rede,
And Truth thee shalt deliver 'tis no drede.
A Couple More Years
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I've got a couple more years on you, baby...that's all.
I've had more chances to fly and more places to fall.
And it ain't that I'm wiser...
It's only that I've spent more time with my back to the wall.
And I've picked up a couple more years on you, baby.. that's all.
The Dunciad: Book II.
© Alexander Pope
Not with more glee, by hands Pontific crown'd,
With scarlet hats wide-waving circled round,
Rome in her Capitol saw Querno sit,
Throned on seven hills, the Antichrist of wit.
Mary Ambree
© Andrew Lang
When captaines couragious, whom death cold not daunte,
Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt,
They mustred their souldiers by two and by three,
And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree.
To Clementina Black
© Amy Levy
More blest than was of old Diogenes,
I have not held my lantern up in vain.
Not mine, at least, this evil-to complain:
"There is none honest among all of these."
The Limit
© Edgar Albert Guest
I CAN stand for the man with the cute little bow
On the back of his green colored hat,
Glycera Rediviva
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Venus, the cruel mother of
The Cupids (symbolizing Love),
Bids me to muse upon and sigh
For things to which I've said "Good-bye!"
Are You Content?
© William Butler Yeats
I CALL on those that call me son,
Grandson, or great-grandson,