Great poems

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The Old Play

© Kenneth Slessor

I
IN an old play-house, in an old play,
In an old piece that has been done to death,
We dance, kind ladies, noble friends.

To the Right Honourable William, Earl of Dartmouth

© Phillis Wheatley

Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,

Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:

Let go the myths and creeds of groping men.
This clay knows naught - the Potter understands.
I own that Power divine beyond my ken,
And still can leave me in His shaping hands.
But, O my God, that madest me to feel,
Forgive the anguish of the turning wheel!

The Pelican Chorus

© Edward Lear

King and Queen of the Pelicans we;

No other Birds so grand we see!

An Inscription for a Temple - Dedicated to the Graces (at Woburn-Abbey)

© Samuel Rogers

Approach with reverence. There are those within,
Whose dwelling-place is Heaven. Daughters of Jove,
From them flow all the decencies of Life;
Without them nothing pleases, Virtue's self

The Ships Of Saint John

© Bliss William Carman

Frenchman and Britisher and Dane,
Yankee, Spaniard and Portugee,
And many a home ship back again
With her stories of the sea.

Elegiac Feelings American

© Gregory Corso

Aye, what happened to you, dear friend, compassionate friend,
is what is happening to everyone and thing of
planet the clamorous sadly desperate planet now
one voice less. . . expendable as the wind. . . gone,
and who'll now blow away the awful miasma of
sick, sick and dying earthflesh-soul America

Lilith

© Madison Julius Cawein

Yea, there are some who always seek
The love that lasts an hour;
And some who in love's language speak,
Yet never know his power.

So Cruel Prison

© Henry Howard

So cruel prison how could betide, alas,

As proud Windsor? Where I in lust and joy

One Hundred and Three

© Henry Lawson

They shut a man in the four-by-eight, with a six-inch slit for air,
Twenty-three hours of the twenty-four, to brood on his virtues there.
And the dead stone walls and the iron door close in as an iron band
On eyes that followed the distant haze far out on the level land.

Quis Separabit?

© Philip Joseph Holdsworth

All my life's short years had been stern and sterile -
I stood like one whom the blasts blow back -
As with shipmen whirled through the straits of Peril,
So fierce foes menaced my every track.

In Praise Of Johnny Applseed

© Vachel Lindsay

But he left their wigwams and their love.
By the hour of dawn he was proud and stark,
Kissed the Indian babes with a sigh,
Went forth to live on roots and bark,
Sleep in the trees, while the years howled by--

The Size

© George Herbert

Content thee, greedie heart.
Modest and moderate joyes to those, that have
Title to more hereafter when they part,
Are passing brave.
Let th' upper springs into the low
Descend and fall, and thou dost flow.

The Cloud Messenger - Part 02

© Kalidasa

Your naturally beautiful reflection will gain entry into the clear waters of the
Gambhira River, as into a clear mind. Therefore it is not fitting that you, out
of obstinancy, should render futile her glances which are the darting leaps of
little fish, as white as night-lotus flowers.

Music's Duel

Now westward Sol had spent the richest beams

Of noon's high glory, when, hard by the streams

Nature The Consoler

GLADLY I hail these solitudes, and breathe
The inspiring breath of the fresh woodland air,
Most gladly to the past alone bequeath
Doubt, grief, and care;

Thoughts on Imputed Righteousness - Occasioned by Reading Theron and Aspasio : Part II.

© John Byrom

To shun much novel sentiment and nice,

I take the thing from its apparent rise;

Evening: Barents Sea

Great lucid streamers bar the sky ahead
(bifurcated banners at a tourney)
light alchemizes the brass on the bridge
into sallow gold
now the short northern
autumn day closes quickly

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