Great poems

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A Letter To Monsieur Boileau Despreaux, Occasioned By The Victory At Blenheim

© Matthew Prior

Since hired for life, thy servile Muse must sing

Successive conquests and a glorious King;

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The Zenana

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

And fragrant though the flowers are breathing,
From far and near together wreathing,
They are not those she used to wear,
Upon the midnight of her hair.—

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Hudibras: Part 2 - Canto II

© Samuel Butler

Quoth RALPHO, Honour's but a word
To swear by only in a Lord:
In other men 'tis but a huff,
To vapour with instead of proof;
That, like a wen, looks big and swells,
Is senseless, and just nothing else.

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Heavenly Wisdom

© John Logan

O Happy is the man who hears
Instruction's warning voice,
And who celestial wisdom makes
His early, only choice.

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In the House of the Voice of Maria Callas by Steve Orlen: American Life in Poetry #143 Ted Kooser, U

© Ted Kooser

Here is Arizona poet Steve Orlen's lovely tribute to the great opera singer, Maria Callas. Most of us never saw her perform, or even knew what she looked like, but many of us listened to her on the radio or on our parents' record players, perhaps in a parlor like the one in this poem.

In the House of the Voice of Maria Callas

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The Twa Dogs

© Robert Burns

'Twas in that place o' Scotland's isle,
That bears the name o' auld King Coil,
Upon a bonie day in June,
When wearin' thro' the afternoon,
Twa dogs, that were na thrang at hame,
Forgather'd ance upon a time.

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Of The Nature Of Things: Book VI - Part 03 - Extraordinary And Paradoxical Telluric Phenomena

© Lucretius

In chief, men marvel nature renders not

Bigger and bigger the bulk of ocean, since

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The Story Of A Soul.

© James Brunton Stephens

WHO can say "Thus far, no farther," to the tide of his own nature?

Who can mould the spirit's fashion to the counsel of his will?

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The Muse

© George Wither

She doth tell me where to borrow

Comfort in the midst of sorrow:

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A Boy And His Dog

© Edgar Albert Guest

A boy and his dog make a glorious pair:
No better friendship is found anywhere,
For they talk and they walk and they run and they play,
And they have their deep secrets for many a day;
And that boy has a comrade who thinks and who feels,
Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.

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Processional

© Madison Julius Cawein

Universes are the pages
Of that book whose words are ages;
Of that book which destiny
Opens in eternity.

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Told By "The Noted Traveler"

© James Whitcomb Riley

Even so had they wrought all ways
To earn the pennies, and hoard them, too,--
And with what ultimate end in view?--
They were saving up money enough to be
Able, in time, to buy their own
Five children back.

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Otho The Great - Act II

© John Keats

SCENE I. An Ante-chamber in the Castle.

Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.

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A Northern Vigil

© Bliss William Carman

HERE by the gray north sea,
In the wintry heart of the wild,
Comes the old dream of thee,
Guendolen, mistress and child.

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The Little Czar

© Henry Lawson

Oh, Great White Czar of Russia, who hid your face and ran,
You’ve flung afar the grandest chance that ever came to man!
You might have been, and could have been—ah, think it to your shame!—
The Czar of all the Russias, in fact as well as name.

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The Muses Threnodie: First Muse

© Henry Adamson

Of Mr George Ruthven the tears and mournings,
Amidst the giddie course of fortune's turnings,
Upon his dear friend's death, Mr John Gall,
Where his rare ornaments bear a part, and wretched Gabions all.

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Edwin Booth

© Vachel Lindsay

An old actor at the Player’s Club told me that Edwin Booth
first impersonated Hamlet when a barnstormer in California.
There were few theatres, but the hotels were provided
with crude assembly rooms for strolling players.

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Melody In A Restaurant

© Conrad Aiken

The cigarette smoke loops and slides above us,
Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes.
You strike a match and stare upon the flame.
The tiny firelight leaps in your eyes a moment
And dies away as silently as it came.

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Old Rhythm And Rhyme

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler


Below in the village a church bell was chiming,
And back in the woodland a little bird sang;
And, doubt it who will, yet those two sounds were rhyming,
As out o'er the hill-tops they echoed and rang.

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To Cordelia

© Mark Akenside

JULY, 1740.

From pompous life's dull masquerade,