Health poems
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Sonnet V
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
IN yonder grim, funereal forest lies
A foul lagoon, o'erfilmed by dust and slime,
Hidden and ghastly, like it thought of crime
In some stern soul kept secret from men's eyes:
The Patient Countess. - extracted from Albion's England
© William Warner
Impatience chaungeth smoke to flame, but jealousie is hell;
Some wives by patience have reduc'd ill husbands to live well:
Doctor Meyers
© Edgar Lee Masters
No other man, unless it was Doc Hill,
Did more for people in this town than l.
And all the weak, the halt, the improvident
And those who could not pay flocked to me.
The Municipal Gallery Revisited
© William Butler Yeats
AROUND me the images of thirty years:
An ambush; pilgrims at the water-side;
To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday
© Alexander Pope
Oh be thou blest with all that Heav'n can send,
Long Health, long Youth, long Pleasure, and a Friend:
Willard Fluke
© Edgar Lee Masters
My wife lost her health,
And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds.
Then that woman, whom the men
Styled Cleopatra, came along.
An Ode to Master Anthony Stafford to hasten Him into the Country
© Thomas Randolph
COME, spur away,
I have no patience for a longer stay,
The Condition Of King Seuen's Flocks
© Confucius
Who dares to say your sheep are few?
The flocks are all three hundred strong.
Who dares despise your cattle too?
There ninety, black-lipped, press along.
Though horned the sheep, yet peaceful each appears;
The cattle come with moist and flapping ears.
A Song From The Suds
© Louisa May Alcott
Queen of my tub, I merrily sing,
While the white foam raises high,
And sturdily wash, and rinse, and wring,
And fasten the clothes to dry;
Then out in the free fresh air they swing,
Under the sunny sky.
Partisanship and politics
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Were I not a patriot, which of course I am, I would explain
just how the term remains a sticking point within my craw,
how it contains a core of prudish mockery, dissembles jingoistic
claims. But I am and not ashamed. I love the land, the people
Scum Of The Earth
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
There was a group called called Scum of the Earth
And they say they got their birth
In a basement bar on Greek Street down in Soho
The bass man he smoked grass and the drummer he kicked ass
The Fugitive
© Mary Darby Robinson
Oft have I seen yon Solitary Man
Pacing the upland meadow. On his brow
It is an abhorrent thing
© Ivan Donn Carswell
It is an abhorrent thing, this incarceration of your vulnerability,
profoundly cruel in the way you were beaten
to your knees, blithely unaware it was a battle lost
for your health and wellbeing. It was dreadful to witness
The Tipler To His Bottle
© George Moses Horton
What hast thou ever done for me?
Defeated every good endeavor;
I never can through life agree
To place my confidence in thee,
Not ever, no, never!
Admire their style
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Im reading fellow poets blogs today,
a sustaining source of entertainment;
I admire their style without exciting comment
or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though
it is to sigh about uneasy affirmation.
The World is with Me
© Thomas Hood
The world is with me, and its many cares,
Its woes--its wants--the anxious hopes and fears
That wait on all terrestrial affairs--
The shades of former and of future years--
Songs Of Education: VI. Hygiene
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Form 394411102, Sub-Section X
"All practical Eugenists are agreed on the importance of sleep."--The Eugenic Congress.
November
© Thomas Hood
No sun - no moon!
No morn - no noon -
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
