Great poems
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Supper at the Mill
© Jean Ingelow
Frances.
Well, good mother, how are you?
M. I'm hearty, lass, but warm; the weather's warm:
I think 'tis mostly warm on market-days.
I met with George behind the mill: said he,
"Mother, go in and rest a while."
My Grace Is Sufficient For Thee
© John Newton
Oppressed with unbelief and sin,
Fightings without, and fears within;
While earth and hell, with force combined,
Assault and terrify my mind.
Poetry And Reality
© Jane Taylor
THE worldly minded, cast in common mould,
With all his might pursuing fame or gold,
To Fortune
© Matthew Prior
Whilst I in prison or in court look down,
Nor beg thy favour nor deserve thy frown,
In vain malicious Fortune hast thou tried
By taking from my state to quell my pride:
Insulting girl, thy present rage abate,
And wouldst thou have my humbled, make me great.
Thebais - Book One - part IV
© Pablius Papinius Statius
For by the black infernal Styx I swear,
(That dreadful oath which binds the thunderer)
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
The Golden Wedding Of Sterling And Sarah Lanier, September 27, 1868.
© Sidney Lanier
By the Eldest Grandson.
Of Three Children
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Nor prince nor peer of fairyland
Had power to weave that wide riband
Of the grey, the gold, the green.
The Destroyer Of A Soul
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
Why come you now? You, whom I cannot cease
With pure and perfect hate to hate? Go, ring
The death-bell with a deep, triumphant toll!
Say you, my friend sits by me still? Ah, peace!
Call you this thing my friend? this nameless thing?
This living body, hiding its dead soul?
Part Of The Fifth Scene In The Second Act Of Athalia
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
[Abner]
Oh! just avenging Heaven! [aside.
Cradle Hymn
© Isaac Watts
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.
Decay
© George Herbert
Sweet were the dayes, when thou didst lodge with Lot,
Struggle with Jacob, sit with Gideon,
Advise with Abraham, when thy power could not
Encounter Moses' strong complaints and moan:
Thy words were then, Let me alone.
From House To House
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
The first was like a dream through summer heat,
The second like a tedious numbing swoon,
While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat
Beneath a winter moon.
The Image Of Death
© Lord Alfred Douglas
I carved an image coloured like the night,
Winged with huge wings, stern-browed and menacing,
The Wind And The Moon
© George MacDonald
Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out!
You stare
In the air
As if crying Beware,
Always looking what I am about:
I hate to be watched; I will blow you out!"
The Value Of A Telephone
© Edgar Albert Guest
LAST night we had a hurry call to go to daughter May,
Her husband said that Ma and me were wanted right away,
An' so, though it was after 12, an' bitter cold outside,
We hustled out of bed an' dressed an' took a trolley ride;
An' Jimthat is her husbandmet us with a gracious bow
An' said to me as we stepped in: "Well, you're a grandpa now."
Occurrence on Washburn Avenue by Regan Huff : American Life in Poetry #212 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La
© Ted Kooser
We've published this column about American life for over four years, and we have finally found a poem about one of the great American pastimes, bowling.
Occurrence on Washburn Avenue
Alice's first strike gets a pat on the back,
