Great poems
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Johnnie Courteau
© William Henry Drummond
Johnnie Courteau of de mountain
Johnnie Courteau of de hill
Dat was de boy can shoot de gun
Dat was de boy can jomp an' run
An'it's not very often you ketch heem still
Johnnie Courteau !
Complaint
© William Carlos Williams
They call me and I go.
It is a frozen road
past midnight, a dust
of snow caught
Hurrah for Cooper and Cary
© Julia A Moore
It is now one hundred years,
Or just one century,
Stood grand this good old nation,
And our forefathers fought
That we may not be a slave -
A slave to the monarchy of England.
The Princess (part 2)
© Alfred Tennyson
At break of day the College Portress came:
She brought us Academic silks, in hue
The Dance
© William Carlos Williams
In Breughel's great picture, The Kermess,
the dancers go round, they go round and
around, the squeal and the blare and the
tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and fiddles
The Black Wallflower
© Frances Anne Kemble
Lo! with the dawn the black buds open'd slowly;
Within each cup a colour deep and holy,
As sacrificial blood, glow'd rich and red,
And through the velvet tissue mantling spread;
While in the midst of this dark crimson heat
A precious golden heart did throb and beat;
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Interlude VI.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus closed the tale of guilt and gloom,
That cast upon each listener's face
The Widow's Home
© Mary Darby Robinson
Close on the margin of a brawling brook
That bathes the low dell's bosom, stands a Cot;
O'ershadow'd by broad Alders. At its door
A rude seat, with an ozier canopy
The Trumpeter, an Old English Tale
© Mary Darby Robinson
It was in the days of a gay British King
(In the old fashion'd custom of merry-making)
The Palace of Woodstock with revels did ring,
While they sang and carous'd--one and all:
The Shepherd's Dog
© Mary Darby Robinson
I.A Shepherd's Dog there was; and he
Was faithful to his master's will,
For well he lov'd his company,
Along the plain or up the hill;
The Poor Singing Dame
© Mary Darby Robinson
Beneath an old wall, that went round an old Castle,
For many a year, with brown ivy o'erspread;
A neat little Hovel, its lowly roof raising,
Defied the wild winds that howl'd over its shed:
The Fortune-Teller, a Gypsy Tale
© Mary Darby Robinson
STEPHEN had long in secret sigh'd;
And STEPHEN never was deny'd:
Now, LUBIN was a modest swain,
And therefore, treated with disdain:
For, it is said, in Love and War ,--
The boldest, most successful are!
The Great Slob
© Charles Bukowski
I was always a natural slob
I liked to lay upon the bed
in undershirt (stained, of
course) (and with cigarette
A Cloud In Trousers - part IV
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
In the streets
men will prick the blubber of four-story craws,
thrust out their little eyes,
worn in forty years of wear and tear to snigger
at my champing
again! on the hard crust of yesterday's caress.
Margaritae Sorori
© William Ernest Henley
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
One Song, America, Before I Go
© Walt Whitman
ONE song, America, before I go,
I'd sing, o'er all the rest, with trumpet sound,
For thee-the Future.
