Knowledge poems
/ page 28 of 75 /Everyday Characters I - The Vicar
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Some years ago, ere time and taste
Had turned our parish topsy-turvy,
The Lady Of La Garaye - Dedication
© Caroline Norton
FRIEND of old days, of suffering, storm, and strife,
Patient and kind through many a wild appeal;
In the arena of thy brilliant life
Never too busy or too cold to feel:
Convalescent
© Ambrose Bierce
What! "Out of danger?" Can the slighted Dame
Or canting Pharisee no more defame?
Magni Nominnus Umbra
© Robert Fuller Murray
St. Andrews! not for ever thine shall be
Merely the shadow of a mighty name,
The remnant only of an ancient fame
Which time has crumbled, as thy rocks the sea.
Phi Beta Kappa Poem
© Bliss William Carman
Harvard, 1914
SIR, friends, and scholars, we are here to serve
A high occasion. Our New England wears
All her unrivalled beauty as of old;
From The Cuckoo And The Nightingale
© William Wordsworth
The God of Love-"ah, benedicite!"
How mighty and how great a Lord is he!
For he of low hearts can make high, of high
He can make low, and unto death bring nigh;
And hard-hearts he can make them kind and free.
Litany for Dictatorships
© Stephen Vincent Benet
For all those beaten, for the broken heads,
The fosterless, the simple, the oppressed,
The ghosts in the burning city of our time ...
Where The Mind Is Without Fear
© Rabindranath Tagore
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Trilogy Of Passion 02 Elegy
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHAT hope of once more meeting is there now
In the still-closed blossoms of this day?
Both heaven and hell thrown open seest thou;
What wav'ring thoughts within the bosom play
No longer doubt! Descending from the sky,
She lifts thee in her arms to realms on high.
Irelands Vow
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Come! Liberty, come! we are ripe for thy coming-
Come freshen the hearts where thy rival has trod-
Come, richest and rarest!-come, purest and fairest!-
Come, daughter of Science!-come, gift of the God!
1946-47
© Jibanananda Das
Thousands of Bengali villages, silent and powerless, sink into
hopelessness and lightlessness.
When the sun sets, a certain lovely haired darkness
Comes to fix her hair in-a bun-but by whose hands?
Twenty-One Distichs About Children
© Eli Siegel
1. Bernice thinks a little.
Bernice is two months old; the world is new for her.
Ah, will her parents' angry world quite do for her?
The Four Seasons : Winter
© James Thomson
See, Winter comes, to rule the varied year,
Sullen and sad, with all his rising train;
Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Be these my theme,
These! that exalt the soul to solemn thought,
To a Lady of Quality, Fitting Up Her Library
© William Shenstone
Ah! what is science, what is art,
Or what the pleasure these impart?
Ye trophies, which the learn'd pursue
Through endless, fruitless toils, adieu!
Eternity
© Arthur Rimbaud
It has been found again.
What ? - Eternity.
It is the sea fled away
With the sun.
Donna Mi Prega
© Ezra Pound
Safe may'st thou go my canzon whither thee pleaseth
Thou art so fair attired that every man and each
Shall praise thy speech
So we have sense or glow with reason's fire,
To stand with other
hast thou no desire.
Pippa Passes: Part IV: Night
© Robert Browning
Thanks, friends, many thanks! I chiefly desire life now, that I may recompense every one of you. Most I know something of already. What, a repast prepared?Benedicto benedicatur . . . ugh, ugh! Where was I? Oh, as you were remarking, Ugo, the weather is mild, very unlike winter-weather: but I am a Sicilian, you know, and shiver in your Julys here. To be sure, when 't was full summer at Messina, as we priests used to cross in procession the great square on Assumption Day, you might see our thickest yellow tapers twist suddenly in two, each like a falling star, or sink down on themselves in a gore of wax. But go, my friends, but go! [To the Intendant]
Not you, Ugo! [The others leave the apartment]
I have long wanted to converse with you, Ugo.
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 12
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quelld,
Don Juan: Canto The Third
© George Gordon Byron
The isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.