Life poems
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The Necessity Of SelfAbasement
© William Cowper
Source of love, my brighter sun,
Thou alone my comfort art;
See, my race is almost run;
Hast thou left this trembling heart?
Like Coins, November by Elizabeth Klise von Zerneck : American Life in Poetry #241 Ted Kooser, U.S.
© Ted Kooser
I love poems in which the central metaphors are fresh and original, and here’s a marvelous, coiny description of autumn by Elizabeth Klise von Zerneck, who lives in Illinois.
Like Coins, November
We drove past late fall fields as flat and cold
Lara. A Tale
© George Gordon Byron
Proud Otho on the instant, reddening, threw
His glove on earth, and forth his sabre flew.
"The last alternative befits me best,
And thus I answer for mine absent guest."
Spring On Mattagmi
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Far in the east the rain-clouds sweep and harry,
Down the long haggard hills, formless and low,
The Mountain Of The Lovers
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I.
LOVE scorns degrees! the low he lifteth high,
The high he draweth down to that fair plain
Whereon, in his divine equality,
Shakespeare
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
"Who claims our Shakespeare from that realm unknown,
Beyond the storm-vexed islands of the deep,
Where Genoa's roving mariner was blown?
Her twofold Saint's-day let our England keep;
Shall warring aliens share her holy task?"
The Old World echoes ask.
From North Wales: To The Mother
© George MacDonald
When the summer gave us a longer day,
And the leaves were thickest, I went away:
Like an isle, through dark clouds, of the infinite blue,
Was that summer-ramble from London and you.
After A Lecture On Wordsworth
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
COME, spread your wings, as I spread mine,
And leave the crowded hall
For where the eyes of twilight shine
O'er evening's western wall.
The Name
© Caroline Norton
THY name was once the magic spell, by which my thoughts were bound,
And burning dreams of light and love were wakened by that sound;
My heart beat quick when stranger tongues, with idle praise or blame,
Awoke its deepest thrill of life, to tremble at that name.
Dreaming Of Li Bai (2)
© Du Fu
One thousand autumns, ten thousand years of fame,
are nothing after death.
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 6
© Publius Vergilius Maro
HE said, and wept; then spread his sails before
The winds, and reachd at length the Cumæan shore:
To A Lady, Who Invited The Author Into The Country.
© Mary Barber
I grieve your Brother has the Gout;
Tho' he's so stoically stout,
I've heard him mourn his Loss of Pain,
And wish it in his Feet again.
What Woe poor Mortals must endure,
When Anguish is their only Cure!
The Borough. Letter I
© George Crabbe
"DESCRIBE the Borough"--though our idle tribe
May love description, can we so describe,
I Am Athirst, But Not For Wine
© Mathilde Blind
I am athirst, but not for wine;
The drink I long for is divine,
Poured only from your eyes in mine.
Psyche
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The butterfly the ancient Grecians made
The soul's fair emblem, and its only name--
But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade
Of mortal life! -- For in this earthly frame
Blue Smoke
© Karle Wilson Baker
The flame of my life burns low
Under the cluttered days,
Like a fire of leaves.
But always a little blue, sweet-smelling smoke
Goes up to God.
Road Report by Kurt Brown: American Life in Poetry #32 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Descriptions of landscape are common in poetry, but in “Road Report” Kurt Brown adds a twist by writing himself into “cowboy country.” He also energizes the poem by using words we associate with the American West: Mustang, cactus, Brahmas. Even his associations—such as comparing the crackling radio to a shattered rib—evoke a sense of place.
Epitaph: Being Part Of An Inscription For A Monument
© James Beattie
Farewell, my best-beloved; whose heavenly mind
Genius with virtue, strength with softness join'd;
Devotion, undebased by pride or art,
With meek simplicity, and joy of heart.
