Good poems
/ page 380 of 545 /
Elegy XV. In Memory of a Private Family in Worcestershire
© William Shenstone
From a lone tower, with reverend ivy crown'd,
The pealing bell awaked a tender sigh;
Still, as the village caught the waving sound,
A swelling tear distream'd from every eye.
The Free Selector (song of 1861)
© Anonymous
Ye sons of industry, to you I belong,
And to you I would dedicate a verse or a song.
Rejoicing o'er the victory John Robertson has won
Now the Land Bill has passed and the good time has come.
Now the Land Bill, etc.
Madam And The Phone Bill
© Langston Hughes
You say I O.K.ed
LONG DISTANCE?
O.K.ed it when?
My goodness, Central
That was then!
Ode to Mr. Graham, the Aeronaut
© Thomas Hood
Dear Graham, whilst the busy crowd,
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
Their meaner flights pursue,
Let us cast off the foolish ties
That bind us to the earth, and rise
And take a bird's-eye view!
Advertisement For The Waldorf-Astoria
© Langston Hughes
LISTEN HUNGRY ONES!
Look! See what Vanity Fair says about the
new Waldorf-Astoria:
The Best is Good Enough
© James Whitcomb Riley
I quarrel not with destiny,
But make the best of everything-
The best is good enough for me.
The Idlers Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. January
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
COVER SHOOTING
The week at Whinwood next to Christmas week.
Six guns, no more, but all good men and true,
Of the clean--visaged sort, with ruddy cheek
Po' Boy Blues
© Langston Hughes
When I was home de
Sunshine seemed like gold.
When I was home de
Sunshine seemed like gold.
Since I come up North de
Whole damn world's turned cold.
Without Ceremony
© Thomas Hardy
It was your way, my dear,
To be gone without a word
When callers, friends, or kin
Had left, and I hastened in
To rejoin you, as I inferred.
Freedoms Plow
© Langston Hughes
First in the heart is the dream-
Then the mind starts seeking a way.
His eyes look out on the world,
On the great wooded world,
On the rich soil of the world,
On the rivers of the world.
The Woman That Lifted Up Her Voice
© George MacDonald
Filled with his words of truth and right,
Her heart will break or cry:
A woman's cry bursts forth in might
Of loving agony.
Of Glory
© Arthur Maquarie
WHO will persuade me that one perfect song
Is not more glorious than a victors bays?
Hymn of the Waldenses
© William Cullen Bryant
Hear, Father, hear thy faint afflicted flock
Cry to thee, from the desert and the rock;
While those, who seek to slay thy children, hold
Blasphemous worship under roofs of gold;
And the broad goodly lands, with pleasant airs
That nurse the grape and wave the grain, are theirs.
Rover
© Henry Kendall
NO classic warrior tempts my pen
To fill with verse these pages
No lordly-hearted man of men
My Muses thought engages.
The Harp Of Hoel
© William Lisle Bowles
It was a high and holy sight,
When Baldwin and his train,
With cross and crosier gleaming bright,
Came chanting slow the solemn rite,
To Gwentland's pleasant plain.
Misgivings
© William Matthews
"Perhaps you'll tire of me," muses
my love, although she's like a great city
to me, or a park that finds new
ways to wear each flounce of light
and investiture of weather.
Soil doesn't tire of rain, I think,
The High-Heeled Boots
© Arthur Chapman
He stands upon the city street, keen-eyed, and brown of face,
He seems to bring a breath of air from some broad prairie space;
Hes perched upon a pair of heels that fit the stirrups curve,
That meet the bucking broncos plunge and counteract each swerve;
And of all the chaps with whom the gods are ever in cahoots
Give me the cattle-puncher in the high-heeled boots.
Fit The First: The Landing
© Lewis Carroll
The crew was complete: it included a Boots
A maker of Bonnets and Hoods
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes
And a Broker, to value their goods.
Job Interview
© William Matthews
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife
He would have written sonnets all his life?
DON JUAN, III, 63-4
