Good poems
/ page 404 of 545 /The Universal Shyp
© Sebastian Brant
Come to, Companyons: ren: tyme it is to rowe:
Our Carake fletis: the se is large and wyde
The Prophecy Of St. Oran: Part I
© Mathilde Blind
"Earth, earth on the mouth of Oran, that he may blab no more." Gaelic Proverb.
S I W
© Wilfred Owen
I will to the King,
And offer him consolation in his trouble,
For that man there has set his teeth to die,
And being one that hates obedience,
Discipline, and orderliness of life,
I cannot mourn him.
In Bondage
© Claude McKay
I would be wandering in distant fields
Where man, and bird, and beast, lives leisurely,
And the old earth is kind, and ever yields
Her goodly gifts to all her children free;
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Finale
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The hour was late; the fire burned low,
The Landlord's eyes were closed in sleep,
Fifth Sunday After Epiphany
© John Keble
"Wake, arm Divine! awake,
Eye of the only Wise!
Now for Thy glory's sake,
Saviour and God, arise,
And may Thine ear, that sealed seems,
In pity mark our mournful themes!"
Italy : 40. Banditti
© Samuel Rogers
'Tis a wild life, fearful and full of change,
The mountain-robber's. On the watch he lies,
Levelling his carbine at the passenger;
And, when his work is done, he dares not sleep.
Noonday Grace
© John Crowe Ransom
MY good old father tucked his head,
(His face the color of gingerbread)
Over the table my mother had spread,
And folded his leathery hands and said:
The Duellist - Book III
© Charles Churchill
Ah me! what mighty perils wait
The man who meddles with a state,
Psalm LXXXV. (85)
© John Milton
Thy Land to favour graciously
Thou hast not Lord been slack,
Thou hast from hard Captivity
Returned Jacob back.
The Dance To Death. Act I
© Emma Lazarus
This play is dedicated, in profound veneration and respect, to the
memory of George Eliot, the illustrious writer, who did most among
the artists of our day towards elevating and ennobling the spirit
of Jewish nationality.
Yesterday
© Edgar Albert Guest
I've trod the links with many a man,
And played him club for club;
'Tis scarce a year since I began
And I am still a dub.
The Bachelor's Soliloquy
© Edgar Albert Guest
To wed, or not to wed; that is the question;Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe bills and house rent of a wedded fortune,Or to say "nit" when she proposes,And by declining cut her
On Quitting
© Edgar Albert Guest
How much grit do you think you've got?Can you quit a thing that you like a lot?You may talk of pluck; it's an easy word,And where'er you go it is often heard;But can you tell to a jot or guessJust how much courage you now possess?
You may stand to trouble and keep your grin,But have you tackled self-discipline?Have you ever issued commands to youTo quit the things that you like to do,And then, when tempted and sorely swayed,Those rigid orders have you obeyed?
Don't boast of your grit till you've tried it out,Nor prate to men of your courage stout,For it's easy enough to retain a grinIn the face of a fight there's a chance to win,But the sort of grit that is good to ownIs the stuff you need when you're all alone
Hard Luck
© Edgar Albert Guest
Ain't no use as I can see
In sittin' underneath a tree
An' growlin' that your luck is bad,
An' that your life is extry sad;
Skyline Tommy
© William Henry Ogilvie
He loves all games that good men play-
And plays them clean and straight-
To Ulla
© Carl Michael Bellman
Ulla, mine Ulla, tell me, may I hand thee
Reddest of strawberries in milk or wine?