Good poems
/ page 64 of 545 /The Things That Matter
© Edith Nesbit
NOW that I've nearly done my days,
And grown too stiff to sweep or sew,
Past And Future
© John Kenyon
Might well have marvelled what such form should mean.
But of that gray-haired group, which clustered round,
Not one there was but knew the nameand sighed
Whenaskingit was answered them "Regret."
The Forlorn Hope
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
One saw the coming doom and was afraid,
And said, "My friends, the cause for which you dare
Is just and worthy, and it has my prayer
My time and money are engaged elsewhere."
An Hymne of Heavenly Love
© Edmund Spenser
Love, lift me up upon thy golden wings
From this base world unto thy heavens hight,
Where I may see those admirable things
Which there thou workest by thy soveraine might,
The Church An Happy Zunday
© William Barnes
Ah! ev'ry day mid bring a while
O' eäse vrom all woone's ceäre an' tweil,
In Memoriam 131: O Living Will That Shalt Endure
© Alfred Tennyson
O living will that shalt endure
When all that seems shall suffer shock,
Rise in the spiritual rock,
Flow thro' our deeds and make them pure,
Open Speech
© John Le Gay Brereton
Good friend of mine, you feel with me
Your blood grows hot by sympathy
With something that I say or do;
Then speakI want a word from you.
Hymn For The Opening Of Plymouth Church, St. Paul, Minnesota
© John Greenleaf Whittier
All things are Thine: no gift have we,
Lord of all gifts, to offer Thee;
And hence with grateful hearts to-day,
Thy own before Thy feet we lay.
This Hymn Was Made By Sir H. Wotton, When He Was An Ambassador At Venice, In The Time of A Great Sic
© Sir Henry Wotton
Eternal Mover, whose diffused Glory,
To shew our groveling Reason what thou art,
Unfolds it self in Clouds of Natures story,
Where Man, thy proudest Creature, acts his part:
Whom yet (alas) I know not why, we call
The Worlds contracted sum, the little all.
The Angel's Kiss
© Alma Frances McCollum
WHEN darkness slowly fades from earth away,
And dawning shades are turning rosy gray,
An angel comes, and softly stooping low
Leaves on our lips a kiss, a blessed kiss,
Filled with protecting peace and heavenly bliss,
Which means, 'I guard you and I love you so.'
The Homestead
© John Greenleaf Whittier
AGAINST the wooded hills it stands,
Ghost of a dead home, staring through
Its broken lights on wasted lands
Where old-time harvests grew.
Conduct
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Heed how thou livest. Do no act by day
Which from the night shall drive thy peace away.
In months of sun so live that months of rain
Shall still be happy. Evermore restrain
Evil and cherish good, so shall there be
Another and a happier life for thee.
A Last Confession
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Our Lombard country-girls along the coast
Wear daggers in their garters: for they know
Hawarden
© George Meredith
When comes the lighted day for men to read
Life's meaning, with the work before their hands
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto V.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III The Heart's Prophecies
Be not amazed at life; 'tis still
The mode of God with His elect
Their hopes exactly to fulfil,
In times and ways they least expect.
The London Lackpenny
© John Lydgate
To London once my steps I bent,
Where truth in no wise should be faint;
A Farmhouse Dirge
© Alfred Austin
Will you walk with me to the brow of the hill, to visit the farmer's wife,
Whose daughter lies in the churchyard now, eased of the ache of life?
Half a mile by the winding lane, another half to the top:
There you may lean o'er the gate and rest; she will want me awhile to stop,
Stop and talk of her girl that is gone and no more will wake or weep,
Or to listen rather, for sorrow loves to babble its pain to sleep.