Good poems
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My Last Duchess
© Robert Browning
That's my last duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Porphyria's Lover
© Robert Browning
The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
The Poppy
© Francis Thompson
Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare,
And left the flushed print in a poppy there:
Like a yawn of fire from the grass it came,
And the fanning wind puffed it to flapping flame.
The Good-Natured Girls
© Jane Taylor
Two good little children, named Mary and Ann,
Both happily live, as good girls always can;
And though they are not either sullen or mute,
They seldom or never are heard to dispute.
Mischief
© Jane Taylor
Let those who're fond of idle tricks,
Of throwing stones, and hurling bricks,
And all that sort of fun,
Now hear a tale of idle Jim,
That warning they may take by him,
Nor do as he has done.
Little Girls Must Not Fret
© Jane Taylor
What is it that makes little Emily cry?
Come then, let mamma wipe the tear from her eye:
There -- lay down your head on my bosom -- that's right,
And now tell mamma what's the matter to-night.
Finery
© Jane Taylor
In an elegant frock, trimm'd with beautiful lace,
And hair nicely curl'd, hanging over her face,
Young Fanny went out to the house of a friend,
With a large little party the evening to spend.
Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers
© Alfred Edward Housman
Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers
Are lying in field and lane,
With dandelions to tell the hours
That never are told again.
Oh Stay At Home, My Lad
© Alfred Edward Housman
Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough
The land and not the sea,
And leave the soldiers at their drill,
And all about the idle hill
Shepherd your sheep with me.
The New Mistress
© Alfred Edward Housman
"Oh, sick I am to see you, will you never let me be?
You may be good for something, but you are not good for me.
Oh, go where you are wanted, for you are not wanted here.
And that was all the farewell when I parted from my dear.
Farewell to Barn and Stack and Tree
© Alfred Edward Housman
"Farewell to barn and stack and tree,
Farewell to Severn shore.
Terence, look your last at me,
For I come home no more.
Diffugere Nives (Horace, Odes 4.7)
© Alfred Edward Housman
The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws
And grasses in the mead renew their birth,
The river to the river-bed withdraws,
And altered is the fashion of the earth.
Bredon Hill
© Alfred Edward Housman
In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.
Fragment of a Greek Tragedy
© Alfred Edward Housman
CHORUS: O suitably-attired-in-leather-boots
Head of a traveller, wherefore seeking whom
Whence by what way how purposed art thou come
To this well-nightingaled vicinity?
Oh Who Is That Young Sinner
© Alfred Edward Housman
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.
Terence, This is Stupid Stuff
© Alfred Edward Housman
TERENCE, this is stupid stuff:
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There cant be much amiss, tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
Poem in Prose
© Archibald MacLeish
This poem is for my wife.
I have made it plainly and honestly:
The mark is on it
Like the burl on the knife.
Bad Day At The Beauty Salon
© Maggie Estep
I was a 20 year old unemployed receptionist with
dyed orange dreadlocks sprouting out of my skull. I needed a job, but first,
I needed a haircut.
Hey Baby
© Maggie Estep
I got a huge bucket of non-dairy creamer
and some time to kill
so let's do it
we'll make some foul-smelling artifical milk
and drink gallons and gallons and gallons of it
