Health poems
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Song Of The Redwood-Tree
© Walt Whitman
A prophecy and indirection-a thought impalpable, to breathe, as air;
A chorus of dryads, fading, departing-or hamadryads departing;
A murmuring, fateful, giant voice, out of the earth and sky,
Voice of a mighty dying tree in the Redwood forest dense.
On The Death Of A Twin
© William Strode
Where are yee now, Astrologers, that looke
For petty accidents in Heavens booke?
Two Twins, to whom one Influence gave breath,
Differ in more than Fortune, Life and Death.
Healthy Labour.
© Robert Crawford
The charm of labour is health's appetite,
For lack of which the clammy sinew is
A joyless power, and, like a hopeless heart,
Throbs to a sickly tune.
The Haglets
© Herman Melville
There, peaked and gray, three haglets fly,
And follow, follow fast in wake
Where slides the cabin-lustre shy,
And sharks from man a glamour take,
Seething along the line of light
In lane that endless rules the war-ship's flight.
Keepe On Your Maske (Version for his Mistress)
© William Strode
Keepe on your maske and hide your eye
For in beholding you I dye.
Your fatall beauty Gorgon-like
Dead with astonishment doth strike.
American Feuillage
© Walt Whitman
Whoever you are! how can I but offer you divine leaves, that you also
be eligible as I am?
How can I but, as here, chanting, invite you for yourself to collect
bouquets of the incomparable feuillage of These States?
The Four Ages of Man
© Anne Bradstreet
1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.
Meditations Divine and Moral
© Anne Bradstreet
A ship that bears much sail, and little ballast, is easily
overset; and that man, whose head hath great abilities, and his
heart little or no grace, is in danger of foundering.
The finest bread has the least bran; the purest honey, the
Decaying Lambskins
© Robinson Jeffers
After all, we also stand on a height. Our blood and our culture
have passed the flood-marks of any world
The rank stench of those bodies haunts me still
© Siegfried Sassoon
The rank stench of those bodies haunts me still
And I remember things I'd best forget.
Hero And Leander. The Third Sestiad
© George Chapman
New light gives new directions, fortunes new,
To fashion our endeavours that ensue.
Starting From Paumanok
© Walt Whitman
Of earth, rocks, Fifth-month flowers, experienced-stars, rain, snow,
my amaze;
Having studied the mocking-bird's tones, and the mountainhawk's,
And heard at dusk the unrival'd one, the hermit thrush from the
swamp-cedars,
Solitary, singing in the West, I strike up for a New World.
The Vanity of Human Wishes: The Tenth Satire of Juvenal, Imitated by Samuel Johnson
© Samuel Johnson
Yet still the gen'ral Cry the Skies assails
And Gain and Grandeur load the tainted Gales;
Few know the toiling Statesman's Fear or Care,
Th' insidious Rival and the gaping Heir.
Daphne to Apollo. Imitated From The First Book Of Ovid's Metamorphosis
© Matthew Prior
Daphne aside]
This care is for himself as pure as death;
One mile has put the fellow out of breath:
He'll never go, I'll lead him th' other round;
Washy he is, perhaps not over sound.
To Mignon.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
OVER vale and torrent far
Rolls along the sun's bright car.
Ah! he wakens in his course
The Day of Hope
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
THE days of absence and the bitter nights
Of separation, all are at an end!
Where is the influence of the star that blights
My hope? The omen answers: At an end!
Vanitas! Vanitatum Vanitas!
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Hurrah!
Then he who would be a comrade of mine
Must rattle his glass, and in chorus combine,
Over these dregs of wine.
The Wanderer.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Published in the Gottingen Musen Almanach,
having been written "to express his feelings and caprices" after
his separation from Frederica.]
The Pure in Heart Shall See God
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
In one grand but gentle chorus,
Floating to the starry dome,
Came the words that brought them nearer,
Words that told of "Home, Sweet Home."
Help
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Dream not, O Soul, that easy is the task
Thus set before thee. If it proves at length,
