Good poems
/ page 368 of 545 /
Sonnet XLIX. J.R.L. (On His Homeward Voyage) 1.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
BACK from old England, in whose courts he stood
Foremost to knit by act and word the band
Between the daughter and the mother-land
In all by either prized of truth and good,
The Shepheardes Calender: Februarie
© Edmund Spenser
Februarie: Ægloga Secunda. CVDDIE & THENOT.
CVDDIE.
AH for pittie, wil ranke Winters rage,
These bitter blasts neuer ginne tasswage?
After The Quarrel
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
SO we, who've supped the self-same cup,
To-night must lay our friendship by;
The Deacon And His Daughter
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
He saved his soul and saved his pork,
With old time preservation;
He did not hold with creosote,
Or new plans of salvation;
He said that "Works would show the man,"
"The smoke-house tell upon the ham!"
The Hard Times In Elfland [A Story of Christmas Eve]
© Sidney Lanier
Strange that the termagant winds should scold
The Christmas Eve so bitterly!
But Wife, and Harry the four-year-old,
Big Charley, Nimblewits, and I,
The Masque of Queen Bersabe: A Miracle-Play
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
PRIMUS MILES.
Sir, note this that I will say;
That Lord who maketh corn with hay
And morrows each of yesterday,
He hath you in his hand.
The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.
© Anne Bradstreet
Great Alexander was wise Philips son,
He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;
The Church Militant
© George Herbert
Almightie Lord, who from thy glorious throne
Seest and rulest all things ev'n as one:
The Sun Wields Mercy
© Charles Bukowski
and the sun wields mercy
but like a jet torch carried to high,
A Huguenot
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Oh, a gallant set were they,
As they charged on us that day,
A thousand riding like one!
Their trumpets crying,
And their white plumes flying,
And their sabres flashing in the sun.
The Angler
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
'Twas saucy Celia smiled on me,
All banished was her sorrow
"To-day I'll loose the silly fish,
For I shall kill to-morrow."
The Heart Of Night
© Bliss William Carman
O doubter of the light,
Confused by fear and wrong,
Lean on the heart of night
And let love make thee strong!
After the Golden Wedding (Three Soliloquies)
© James Kenneth Stephen
She's not a faultless woman; no!
She's not an angel in disguise:
She has her rivals here below:
She's not an unexampled prize:
Limitations Of Benevolence
© Julia Ward Howe
"The beggar boy is none of mine,"
The reverend doctor strangely said;
"I do not walk the streets to pour
Chance benedictions on his head.
Botany Bay Eclogues 04 - John, Samuel & Richard
© Robert Southey
'Tis a calm pleasant evening, the light fades away,
And the Sun going down has done watch for the day.
To my mind we live wonderous well when transported,
It is but to work and we must be supported.
Fill the cann, Dick! success here to Botany Bay!
Hymn To The Naiads
© Mark Akenside
ARGUMENT. The Nymphs, who preside over springs and rivulets, are addressed at day-break, in honor of their several functions, and of the relations which they bear to the natural and to the moral world. Their origin is deduced from the first allegorical deities, or powers of nature; according to the doctrine of the old mythological poets, concerning the generation of the gods and the rise of things. They are then successively considered, as giving motion to the air and exciting summer-breezes; as nourishing and beautifying the vegetable creation; as contributing to the fullness of navigable rivers, and consequently to the maintenance of commerce; and by that means, to the maritime part of military power. Next is represented their favourable influence upon health, when assisted by rural exercise: which introduces their connection with the art of physic, and the happy effects of mineral medicinal springs. Lastly, they are celebrated for the friendship which the Muses bear them, and for the true inspiration which temperance only can receive: in opposition to the enthusiasm of the more licentious poets.
--
The Stevedores
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
We are the army stevedores, lusty and virile and strong,
We are given the hardest work of the war, and the hours are long.
We handle the heavy boxes, and shovel the dirty coal;
While soldiers and sailors work in the light, we burrow below like a mole.
But somebody has to do this work, or the soldiers could not fight!
And whatever work is given a man, is good if he does it right.
The World In The House
© Jane Taylor
Regions of intellect ! serenely fair,
Hence let us rise, and breathe your purer air.
--There shine the stars ! one intellectual glance
At that bright host,--on yon sublime expanse,
Might prove a cure ;--well, say they, let them shine
With all our hearts,--but let us dress and dine.
