Learning poems
/ page 16 of 41 /A Dedication To E.C.B.
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
He was, through boyhood's storm and shower,
My best, my nearest friend;
We wore one hat, smoked one cigar,
One standing at each end.
To The Genius Of Mr. John Hall. On His Exact Translation Of
© Richard Lovelace
Tis not from cheap thanks thinly to repay
Th' immortal grove of thy fair-order'd bay
Thou planted'st round my humble fane, that I
Stick on thy hearse this sprig of Elegie:
Everyday Characters I - The Vicar
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Some years ago, ere time and taste
Had turned our parish topsy-turvy,
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;
The Two Thieves; Or, The Last Stage Of Avarice
© William Wordsworth
O NOW that the genius of Bewick were mine,
And the skill which he learned on the banks of the Tyne.
Then the Muses might deal with me just as they chose,
For I'd take my last leave both of verse and of prose.
On Sr Charles Porter The Chancellours Death
© Thomas Parnell
& tis too true alass! we find, he's gonn,
Virtue from earth a second time is flown,
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?
Tale XI
© George Crabbe
creed;
And those of stronger minds should never speak
(In his opinion) what might hurt the weak:
A man may smile, but still he should attend
His hour at church, and be the Church's friend,
What there he thinks conceal, and what he hears
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!
Morituri Salutamus: Poem For The 50th Anniversary Of The Class Of 1825 In Bowdoin College
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tempora labuntur, tacitisque senescimus annis,
Et fugiunt freno non remorante dies.
~OVID, Fastorum, Lib. vi.
Phyrne
© Alexander Pope
Phryne had talents for mankind,
Open she was, and unconfin'd,
Like some free port of trade:
Merchants unloaded here their freight,
And Agents from each foreign state,
Here first their entry made.
OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.
The Gulf of All Human Possessions
© Jonathan Swift
Come hither, and behold the fruits,
Vain man! of all thy vain pursuits.
Take wise advice, and look behind,
Bring all past actions to thy mind.
Raschi In Prague
© Emma Lazarus
Raschi of Troyes, the Moon of Israel,
The authoritative Talmudist, returned
Poetry: A Metrical Essay, Read Before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, Harvard
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Scenes of my youth! awake its slumbering fire!
Ye winds of Memory, sweep the silent lyre!
Ray of the past, if yet thou canst appear,
Break through the clouds of Fancyâs waning year;
Chase from her breast the thin autumnal snow,
If leaf or blossom still is fresh below!
In an Almshouse
© Augusta Davies Webster
They said you were not pretty, owed your charm
to choice of ribbons from your father's shop,
but, as for me, I saw not if you wore
too many ribbons or too few, nor sought
what charms you had beyond that one I knew,
the kind and honest look in your grey eyes.