Life poems

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A Far Cry to Heaven

© Edith Matilda Thomas

WHAT! dost thou pray that the outgone tide be rolled back on the strand,

The flame be rekindled that mounted away from the smouldering brand,

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Fragment: Love The Universe To-Day

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

And who feels discord now or sorrow?
Love is the universe to-day--
These are the slaves of dim to-morrow,
Darkening Life's labyrinthine way.

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To A Departed Spirit

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

From the bright stars, or from the viewless air,
Or from some world unreached by human thought,
Spirit, sweet spirit! if thy home be there,
And if thy visions with the past be fraught,
  Answer me, answer me!

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The Freehold on the Plain

© Anonymous

I'm a broken-down old squatter, my cash it is all gone,
 Of troubles and bad seasons I complain;
My cattle are all mortgaged, of horses I have none,
 And I've lost that little freehold on the plain.

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An April Love

© Alfred Austin

Nay, be not June, nor yet December, dear,

But April always, as I find thee now:

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The Old Cumberland Beggar

© William Wordsworth

. I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;

  And he was seated, by the highway side,

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Boy and Egg by Naomi Shihab Nye: American Life in Poetry #30 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-200

© Ted Kooser

Naomi Shihab Nye lives in San Antonio, Texas. Here she perfectly captures a moment in childhood that nearly all of us may remember: being too small for the games the big kids were playing, and fastening tightly upon some little thing of our own.


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The Long Room

© Madison Julius Cawein

HE found the long room as it was of old,
Glimmering with sunset's gold;
That made the tapestries seem full of eyes
Strange with a wild surmise:

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Night Piece

© Alexander Pushkin

I can't sleep, and there's no light,
  Mirk all round and restless slumber,
  Tickings near me without number,
Monotonous clock measuring night!

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The Boy And The Flag

© Edgar Albert Guest

I want my boy to love his home,

  His Mother, yes, and me:

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A Spirit's Return

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Thou knewest me not in life's fresh vernal morn -
I would thou hadst! - for then my heart on thine
Had poured a worthier love; now, all o'erworn
By its deep thirst for something too divine,
It hath but fitful music to bestow,
Echoes of harp-strings broken long ago.

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Queen Mab: Part II.

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

If solitude hath ever led thy steps

  To the wild ocean's echoing shore,

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Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book IV - Dyuta - (The Fatal Dice)

© Romesh Chunder Dutt

The madness increased, and Yudhishthir staked his brothers, and then
himself, and then the fair Draupadi, and lost! And thus the Emperor
of Indra-prastha and his family were deprived of every possession
on earth, and became the bond-slaves of Duryodhan. The old king
Dhrita-rashtra released them from actual slavery, but the five
brothers retired to forests as homeless exiles.

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Porphyrion

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Yet into vacancy the troubled heart
Brings its own fullness: and Porphyrion found
The void a prison, and in the silence chains.

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St. Ignatius Loyola At The Chapel Of Our Lady Of Montserrat

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

’Tis midnight, and solemn darkness broods

  In a lonely, sacred fane—

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The Fool Of The World: A Morality

© Arthur Symons

THE MAN. THE WORM.
DEATH, as the Fool, YOUTH.
THE SPADE. MIDDLE AGE.
THE COFFIN. OLD AGE.

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The Warrior's Return

© Amelia Opie

Sir Walter returned from the far Holy Land,
 And a blood-tinctured falchion he bore;
But such precious blood as now darkened his sword
 Had never distained it before.

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The Dead Oread

© Madison Julius Cawein

Her heart is still and leaps no more
With holy passion when the breeze,
Her whilom playmate, as before,
Comes with the language of the bees,
Sad songs her mountain cedars sing,
And water-music murmuring.

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Texas Cowboy

© Karle Wilson Baker

From garden-beds I tend, it is not far

To those great ranges where he used to ride;

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Breitmann In Battle

© Charles Godfrey Leland

I DINKS I'll go a vightin'" - outshpoke der Breitemann.
"It's eighdeen hoonderd fordy-eight since I kits swordt in hand;
Dese fourdeen years mit Hecker all roostin' I haf been,
Boot now I kicks der Teufel oop and goes for sailin' in."