Great poems
/ page 457 of 549 /
Courage is a motherless lamb
© Ivan Donn Carswell
For a small child crossing the pen alone was a courageous feat,
occasionally, with a maniacal bleat, the wether would burst from cover
and butt whomever graced his yard. He meant it in fun, something
he had done since his bottle-fed youth, he knew no other form of greeting.
Cherry bomb
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I said goodbye and went to bed to die;
I never knew that they had lied was quite
surprised they didnt seem to care, I agonised,
refused to cry although in time the tears
Faustus And Helen
© Arthur Symons
HELEN
Have I slept long? You waken me from sleep.
I have forgotten something: what is it?
Camping in a kitchen
© Ivan Donn Carswell
To say weve done it all before is not to bend
the truth and though weve lost our youth
the vision of the bright contemporary kitchen
draws us on, sustaining us beyond our strength.
To Napoleon
© John Clare
The heroes of the present and the past
Were puny, vague, and nothingness to thee:
Ad Invasions
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Advertisements, theyve trashed the web,
somehow theyve gotten into bed
with common sense; ubiquitous
and so intense, insistent
A Fuedal Picture
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WITH what a grace she passed us by just now!
Her delicate chin half raised, her cordial brow
The Great Black Heron
© Denise Levertov
Since I stroll in the woods more often
than on this frequented path, it's usually
trees I observe; but among fellow humans
what I like best is to see an old woman
Maiden-Song
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
But I have a will to work,
And a heart for you:
Bid me stay or bid me go.'
September 1961
© Denise Levertov
This is the year the old ones,
the old great ones
leave us alone on the road.
The Borough. Letter XVIII: The Poor And Their
© George Crabbe
applause:
To her own house is borne the week's supply;
There she in credit lives, there hopes in peace to
"Thin little leaves of wood fern, ribbed and toothed"
© Frederick Goddard Tuckerman
Thin little leaves of wood fern, ribbed and toothed
Long curved sail needles of the green pitch pine,
Lallegro
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Felicity!
Who ope'st to none that knocks, yet, laughing weak,
The Spirit Of Great Joan
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Back of each soldier who fights for France,
Aye, back of each woman and man
Tim Turpin
© Thomas Hood
Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind,
And ne'er had seen the skies :
For Nature, when his head was made,
Forgot to dot his eyes.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 05 - Character Of The Atoms
© Lucretius
So primal germs have solid singleness
Nor otherwise could they have been conserved
Through aeons and infinity of time
For the replenishment of wasted worlds.
XIV: Ode: To Sir William Sydney, On His Birth-day
© Benjamin Jonson
Now that the harth is crown'd with smiling fire,
And some do drink, and some do dance,
The Golden Legend: VI. The School Of Salerno
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Doctor Serafino._ I, with the Doctor Seraphic, maintain,
That a word which is only conceived in the brain
Is a type of eternal Generation;
The spoken word is the Incarnation.
Turns And Movies: Duval's Birds
© Conrad Aiken
The parrot, screeching, flew out into the darkness,
Circled three times above the upturned faces
With a great whir of brilliant outspread wings,
And then returned to stagger on her finger.
