Learning poems
/ page 21 of 41 /
Jinny the Just
© Matthew Prior
Releas'd from the noise of the butcher and baker
Who, my old friends be thanked, did seldom forsake her,
And from the soft duns of my landlord the Quaker,
The Seasons: Winter
© James Thomson
OH! bear me then to high, embowering, Shades;
To twilight Groves, and visionary Vales;
To weeping Grottos, and to hoary Caves;
Where Angel-Forms are seen, and Voices heard,
Sigh'd in low Whispers, that abstract the Soul,
From outward Sense, far into Worlds remote.
The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
The 9th Satire Of Book I. Of Horace : The Description Of An Impertinent. Adapted To The Present Time
© William Cowper
Sauntering along the street one day,
On trifles musing by the way,
146. Address to Edinburgh
© Robert Burns
EDINA! Scotias darling seat!
All hail thy palaces and towrs,
Where once, beneath a Monarchs feet,
Sat Legislations sovreign powrs:
60. Epistle on J. Lapraik
© Robert Burns
But, to conclude my lang epistle,
As my auld pens worn to the gristle,
Twa lines frae you wad gar me fissle,
Who am, most fervent,
While I can either sing or whistle,
Your friend and servant.
55. The Twa Herds; or, The Holy Tulyie
© Robert Burns
Then Shaws an Drymples eloquence,
MGills close nervous excellence
MQuhaes pathetic manly sense,
An guid MMath,
Wi Smith, wha thro the heart can glance,
May a pack aff.
157. Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh
© Robert Burns
WHEN, by a generous Publics kind acclaim,
That dearest meed is grantedhonest fame;
Waen here your favour is the actors lot,
Nor even the man in private life forgot;
On the Death of His Eldest Son
© George Canning
Though short thy space, God's unimpeach'd decrees
Which made that shorten'd space one long disease;
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
548. The Dean of Faculty: A new Ballad
© Robert Burns
DIRE was the hate at old Harlaw,
That Scot to Scot did carry;
And dire the discord Langside saw
For beauteous, hapless Mary:
The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy
© William Shenstone
A POEM ON THE TEMPER AND STUDIES OF THE AUTHOR; AND HOW GREAT A MISFORTUNE IT IS FOR A MAN OF SMALL ESTATE TO HAVE MUCH TASTE.
Part first.
133. The Brigs of Ayr
© Robert Burns
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough,
Learning his tuneful trade from evry bough;
The chanting linnet, or the mellow thrush,
Hailing the setting sun, sweet, in the green thorn bush;
Prologue To 'Zobeide'
© Oliver Goldsmith
IN these bold times, when Learning's sons explore
The distant climate and the savage shore;
Haidouks
© Hristo Botev
Father and Son
Come, Grandfather, blow on your pipe now,
And I will take up the tune
With songs of our heroes, of haidouks,
89. The Ordination
© Robert Burns
KILMARNOCK wabsters, fidge an claw,
An pour your creeshie nations;
An ye wha leather rax an draw,
Of a denominations;
Moeurs Contemporaines
© Ezra Pound
And by her left foot, in a basket,
Is an infant, aged about 14 months,
The infant beams at the parent,
The parent re-beams at its offspring.
The basket is lined with satin,
There is a satin-like bow on the harp.
Sonnet LXXVIII
© William Shakespeare
So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse
And found such fair assistance in my verse
As every alien pen hath got my use
And under thee their poesy disperse.
Sonnet LXXVII
© William Shakespeare
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
The Ghost - Book II
© Charles Churchill
A sacred standard rule we find,
By poets held time out of mind,
