Good poems
/ page 86 of 545 /Life
© Jones Very
IT is not life upon Thy gifts to live,
But, to grow fixed with deeper roots in Thee;
Lines On Mr. Hodgson Written On Board The Lisbon Packet
© George Gordon Byron
Huzza! Hodgson, we are going,
Our embargo's off at last;
The Cock And The Bull
© Charles Stuart Calverley
Now Law steps in, bigwiggd, voluminous-jawd;
Investigates and re-investigates.
Was the transaction illegal? Law shakes head.
Perpend, sir, all the bearings of the case.
The Wife Of All Ages
© Edith Nesbit
I DO not catch these subtle shades of feeling,
Your fine distinctions are too fine for me;
This meeting, scheming, longing, trembling, dreaming,
To me mean love, and only love, you see;
In me at least 'tis love, you will admit,
And you the only man who wakens it.
Then And Now
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
A little time agone, a few brief years,
And there was peace within our beauteous borders;
Peace, and a prosperous people, and no fears
Of war and its disorders.
Pleasure was ruling goddess of our land; with her attendant Mirth
She led a jubilant, joy-seeking band about the riant earth.
A Boy And Watchmaker
© John Bunyan
This watch my father did on me bestow,
A golden one it is, but 'twill not go,
In A Swedish Graveyard
© Emma Lazarus
After wearisome toil and much sorrow,
How quietly sleep they at last,
The Pariah - Legend
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WATER-FETCHING goes the noble
Brahmin's wife, so pure and lovely;
Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto I
© Samuel Butler
His doublet was of sturdy buff,
And tho' not sword, yet cudgel-proof;
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,
Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise.
"Flowers Of France" Decoration Poem For Soldiers' Graves, Tours, France, May 30, 1918
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Flowers of France in the Spring,
Your growth is a beautiful thing;
Dedication
© Caroline Norton
ONCE more, my harp! once more, although I thought
Never to wake thy silent strings again,
A wandering dream thy gentle chords have wrought,
And my sad heart, which long hath dwelt in pain,
Soars, like a wild bird from a cypress bough,
Into the poet's Heaven, and leaves dull grief below!
To James Russell Lowell
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Here let us keep him, here he saw the light,--
His genius, wisdom, wit, are ours by right;
And if we lose him our lament will be
We have "five hundred"--_not_ "as good as he."
The Two Glasses
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There sat two glasses, filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim.
One was ruddy and red as blood,
And one was clear as the crystal flood.
The Soul Of Spain
© Ernest Hemingway
Bill's father would never knowingly sit down at table with a Democrat.
Now Bill says democracy must go.
Go on democracy.
Democracy is the shit.
Relativity is the shit.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude VI.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Student praised the good old times,
And liked the canter of the rhymes,
That had a hoofbeat in their sound;
But longed some further word to hear
Of the old chronicler Ben Meir,
And where his volume might he found.