Home poems
/ page 142 of 465 /Pereunt Et Imputantur
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Bernard, if to you and me
Fortune all at once should give
Years to spend secure and free,
With the choice of how to live,
Tell me, what should we proclaim
Life deserving of the name?
The Annunciation And Passion
© John Donne
TAMELY, frail body, abstain to-day ; to-day
My soul eats twice, Christ hither and away.
Prologue To Faulkener
© Charles Lamb
The genius who conceived that magic tale
Was skilled by native pathos to prevail.
His stories, though rough-drawn and framed in haste,
Had that which pleased our homely grandsires' taste.
Pippa Passes: Part III: Evening
© Robert Browning
Mother
If there blew wind, you'd hear a long sigh, easing
The utmost heaviness of music's heart.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 02:
© Conrad Aiken
You readwhat is it, then that you are reading?
What music moves so silently in your mind?
Your bright hand turns the page.
I watch you from my window, unsuspected:
You move in an alien land, a silent age . . .
Agamemnon In The Fight
© George Meredith
[Iliad, B. XI. V. 148]
These, then, he left, and away where ranks were now clashing the thickest,
Bread And Gravy
© Edgar Albert Guest
There's a heap o' satisfaction in a chunk o' pumpkin pie,
An' I'm always glad I'm livin' when the cake is passin' by;
An Ode - In Imitation of Horace, Book III. Ode II.
© Matthew Prior
How long, deluded Albion, wilt thou lie
In the lethargic sleep, the sad repose
Beauty And Art
© Madison Julius Cawein
The gods are dead; but still for me
Lives on in wildwood brook and tree
Each myth, each old divinity.
How Can a Man Escape Life's Sorrow and Regret?
© Li Yu
How can a man escape life's sorrow and regret?
What limit is there to my solitary grief?
The Joy Of Getting Back
© Edgar Albert Guest
There ain't the joy in foreign skies that those of home possess,
An' friendliness o' foreign folks ain't hometown friendliness;
An' far-off landscapes with their thrills don't grip me quite as hard
As jes' that little patch o' green that's in my own backyard.
Picture of Twilight
© Caroline Norton
Oh, Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth,
Fragments - Lines 0783 - 0788
© Theognis of Megara
Yes, I went once to the land of Sicily too,
I went to Euboia's vineyard-covered plain,
And to Sparta, that splendid city on Eurotas' reedy banks;
And everywhere I went they welcomed me with kindness.
But no pleasure came to my heart from any of them:
So true is it, after all, that nothing is dearer than one's homeland.
Blanche And Nell
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OH, Blanche is a city lady,
Bedecked in her silks and lace:
She walks with the mien of a stately queen,
And a queen's imperious grace.
The Bride Of The Nile - Act III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
(Enter Barix and Boïlas conversing.)
Barix. I always said it, Boïlas, it must come at last,
The day of annexation. Things have moved on fast,
Faster than we quite thought a week or two ago.
The mills of Rome grind slowly--quite absurdly slow.
It comes to the same thing.
Selling The Old Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little house has grown too small, or rather we have grown
Too big to dwell within the walls where all our joys were known.
And so, obedient to the wish of her we love so well,
I have agreed for sordid gold the little home to sell.
Now strangers come to see the place, and secretly I sigh,
And deep within my breast I hope that they'll refuse to buy.
The Sibyls
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the seas that streamed
In ghostly turbulence moving and glimmering about me
I saw the rising of vast and visionary forms.
Hamilton
© Marie E J Pitt
WILD and wet, and windy wet falls the night on Hamilton,
Hamilton that seaward looks unto the setting sun,
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXXI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The booths were shut. The Fair was at an end,
And the crowd gone with multitudinous feet
Noisily home, or lingering still to spend
At Café doors or at the turn of the street