Health poems
/ page 68 of 85 /Italy : 43. The Bag Of Gold
© Samuel Rogers
I dine very often with the good old Cardinal * * and, I
should add, with his cats; for they always sit at his table,
and are much the gravest of the company. His beaming
countenance makes us forget his age; nor did I ever see
To A Young Ass
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Its mother being tethered near itPoor little Foal of an oppress?d race!
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
The Two Peacocks of Bedfont
© Thomas Hood
I
Alas! That breathing Vanity should go
Where Pride is buried,like its very ghost,
Uprisen from the naked bones below,
The Borough. Letter IX: Amusements
© George Crabbe
aloud;
She who will tremble if her eye explore
"The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VII - Pompilia
© Robert Browning
There,
Strength comes already with the utterance!
I will remember once more for his sake
The sorrow: for he lives and is belied.
Could he be here, how he would speak for me!
Dream Song 55: Peter's not friendly. He gives me sideways looks
© John Berryman
Peter's not friendly. He gives me sideways looks.
The architecture is far from reassuring.
I feel uneasy.
A pity,âthe interview began so well:
I mentioned fiendish things, he waved them away
and sloshed out a martini
At the Top of My voice
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
Professor,
take off your bicycle glasses!
I myself will expound
those times
and myself.
Health
© Edward Thomas
Four miles at a leap, over the dark hollow land,
To the frosted steep of the down and its junipers black,
Travels my eye with equal ease and delight:
And scarce could my body leap four yards.
The Lilies
© Wendell Berry
Amid the gray trunks of ancient trees we found
the gay woodland lilies nodding on their stems,
frail and fair, so delicately balanced the air
held or moved them as it stood or moved.
The Parish Register - Part II: Marriages
© George Crabbe
made.
Yet now, would Phoebe her consent afford,
Her slave alone, again he'd mount the board;
With her should years of growing love be spent,
And growing wealth;--she sigh'd and look'd consent.
Now, through the lane, up hill, and 'cross the
The Thorn Forest
© Dante Alighieri
Then dark with dripping blood it gave a howl
and cried again: "Our damaged branches ache!
Your pillage maims me! Can't you feel at all?
The Drunkard's Funeral
© Vachel Lindsay
"You are right, little sister," I said to myself,
"You are right, good sister," I said.
"Though you wear a mussy bonnet
On your little gray head,
You are right, little sister," I said.
A Ballad
© James Whitcomb Riley
Crowd about me, little children--
Come and cluster 'round my knee
While I tell a little story
That happened once with me.
Inscription For The Tomb Of Mr. Hamilton
© William Cowper
Pause here, and think; a monitory rhyme
Demands one moment of thy fleeting time.
Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein;
Seems it to say --"Health here has long to reign?"
The Passions. An Ode to Music
© William Taylor Collins
First Fear his hand, its skill to try,
Amid the chords bewilder'd laid,
And back recoil'd, he knew not why,
Ev'n at the sound himself had made.
The Wild Knight
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
_A dark manor-house shuttered and unlighted, outlined against a pale
sunset: in front a large, but neglected, garden. To the right, in the
foreground, the porch of a chapel, with coloured windows lighted. Hymns
within._
The Two-Sided Man
© Rudyard Kipling
Much I owe to the Lands that grew--
More to the Lives that fed--
But most to Allah Who gave me two
Separate sides to my head.
The Story of Uriah
© Rudyard Kipling
Jack Barrett went to Quetta
Because they told him to.
He left his wife at Simla
On three-fourths his monthly screw.
Jack Barrett died at Quetta
Ere the next month's pay he drew.