Good poems

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Life

© Jones Very

IT is not life upon Thy gifts to live,

But, to grow fixed with deeper roots in Thee;

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Lines On Mr. Hodgson Written On Board The Lisbon Packet

© George Gordon Byron

Huzza! Hodgson, we are going,

  Our embargo's off at last;

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A Hymn for Noon

© Thomas Parnell

The sun is swiftly mounted high;

It glitters in the southern sky;

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The Cock And The Bull

© Charles Stuart Calverley

Now Law steps in, bigwigg’d, voluminous-jaw’d;
Investigates and re-investigates.
Was the transaction illegal? Law shakes head.
Perpend, sir, all the bearings of the case.

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The Poplars

© William Barnes

If theäse day's work an' burnèn sky

  'V'a-zent hwome you so tired as I,

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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.

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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.

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A Boy And Watchmaker

© John Bunyan

This watch my father did on me bestow,

A golden one it is, but 'twill not go,

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In A Swedish Graveyard

© Emma Lazarus

After wearisome toil and much sorrow,

How quietly sleep they at last,

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The Pariah - Legend

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

WATER-FETCHING goes the noble

Brahmin's wife, so pure and lovely;

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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.

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"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;

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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!

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We and They

© Rudyard Kipling

Father, Mother, and Me,

Sister and Auntie say

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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."

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A Woman Of Quality

© Du Fu

Matchless in breeding and beauty,

a fine lady has taken refuge

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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.

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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.

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Tale XIX

© George Crabbe

THE CONVERT.

Some to our Hero have a hero's name

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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.