Great poems
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The Ports of the Open Sea
© Henry Lawson
Down here where the ships loom large in
The gloom when the sea-storms veer,
The Mendicants
© Bliss William Carman
We are as mendicants who wait
Along the roadside in the sun.
Tatters of yesterday and shreds
Of morrow clothe us every one.
The Society Upon The Stanislaus
© Francis Bret Harte
I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James;
I am not up to small deceit or any sinful games;
And I'll tell in simple language what I know about the row
That broke up our Society upon the Stanislow.
Habakkuk
© Thomas Parnell
Here terrour leaves me with exalted head,
I breath fine air, and find the vision fled,
The Seer withdrawn, inspir'd, and urg'd to write,
By the warm influence of the sacred sight.
When Horace "Came Back"
© Franklin Pierce Adams
When I was your stiddy, my loveliest Lyddy,
And you my embraceable she,
In joys and diversions, the king of the Persians
Had nothing on me.
Pharsalia - Book VII: The Battle
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Then burned their souls
At these his words, indignant at the thought,
And Rome rose up within them, and to die
Was welcome.
Scholar And The Carpenter
© Jean Ingelow
While ripening corn grew thick and deep,
And here and there men stood to reap,
A Successful Dad
© Edgar Albert Guest
OTHERS may laugh at my feeble endeavor
To capture life's prizes, and others may sneer;
The Dream Of Pio Nono
© John Greenleaf Whittier
IT chanced that while the pious troops of France
Fought in the crusade Pio Nono preached,
What time the holy Bourbons stayed his hands
(The Hur and Aaron meet for such a Moses),
Written For My Son, In A Bible Which Was Presented To Him.
© Mary Barber
Welcome, thou sacred, solemn Guest,
Who com'st to guide me to the Blest.
O Fountain of eternal Truth,
Thou gracious Guardian of my Youth!
Cymru
© George Essex Evans
Dim in the mist of ages, seeking a resting-place,
Broke on the shores of Britain the wave of an Aryan race.
The Song Of Hiawatha XIX: The Ghosts
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Never stoops the soaring vulture
On his quarry in the desert,
Sonnet X: Yet Love, Mere Love
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
Deliverance Through Art
© Lesbia Harford
When I am making poetry I'm good
And happy then.
I live in a deep world of angelhood
Afar from men.
Equipment
© Edgar Albert Guest
Figure it out for yourself, my lad,
You've all that the greatest of men have had,
Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes,
And a brain to use if you would be wise.
With this equipment they all began,
So start for the top and say "I can."
The Woman Who Went To Hell [An Irish Legend]
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Young Dermod stood by his mother's side,
And he spake right stern and cold;
Now, why do you weep and wail," he said,
And joy from my bride withhold ?
England
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Shall we but turn from braggart pride
Our race to cheapen and defame?
Before the world to wail, to chide,
And weakness as with vaunting claim?
