Home poems
/ page 53 of 465 /Supper at the Mill
© Jean Ingelow
Frances.
Well, good mother, how are you?
M. I'm hearty, lass, but warm; the weather's warm:
I think 'tis mostly warm on market-days.
I met with George behind the mill: said he,
"Mother, go in and rest a while."
Life Without Health
© William Watson
Behold life builded as a goodly house
And grown a mansion ruinous
Poetry And Reality
© Jane Taylor
THE worldly minded, cast in common mould,
With all his might pursuing fame or gold,
Fugitive's Triumph
© Anonymous
Go, go, thou that enslav'st me,
Now, now thy power is o'er;
Long, long have I obeyed thee,
I'm not a slave any more;
No, no-oh, no!
I'm a free man ever more!
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
The Wind
© Mathilde Blind
ACROSS the barren moors the wild, wild wind
Went sweeping on, and with his sobs and shrieks
Of Three Children
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Nor prince nor peer of fairyland
Had power to weave that wide riband
Of the grey, the gold, the green.
In Durance
© Ezra Pound
(1907)
1 am homesick after mine own kind,
Oh I know that there are folk about me, friendly faces,
But I am homesick after mine own kind.
Calgary Station
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
DAZZLED by sun and drugged by space they wait,
These homeless peoples, at our prairie gate;
Dumb with the awe of those whom fate has hurled,
Breathless, upon the threshold of a world!
Evening Twilight
© Charles Baudelaire
Heres the criminals friend, delightful evening:
come like an accomplice, with a wolfs loping:
slowly the skys vast vault hides each feature,
and restless man becomes a savage creature.
Cradle Hymn
© Isaac Watts
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.
From House To House
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
The first was like a dream through summer heat,
The second like a tedious numbing swoon,
While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat
Beneath a winter moon.
Clerical Oppressors
© John Greenleaf Whittier
JUST God! and these are they
Who minister at thine altar, God of Right!
Men who their hands with prayer and blessing lay
On Israel's Ark of light!
The Peace Autumn
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THANK God for rest, where none molest,
And none can make afraid;
For Peace that sits as Plenty's guest
Beneath the homestead shade!
A Life's Story
© Edith Nesbit
THE morning broke in a pearly haze,
Then the east grew duskly red:
'Oh, my only day, oh, my day of days,
To-day he will come,' I said.
The Tunning of Elenor Rumming
© John Skelton
Some renne tyll they swete,
Brynge wyth them malte or whete,
And dame Elynour entrete
To byrle them of the best.
The Emigrants Monument At Point St. Charles
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
A kindly thought, a generous deed,
Ye gallant sons of toil!
No nobler trophy could ye raise
On your adopted soil
Than this monument to your kindred dead,
Who sleep beneath in their cold, dark bed.
Florio : A Tale, For Fine Gentleman And Fine Ladies. In Two Parts
© Hannah More
PART I.
Florio, a youth of gay renown,