Life poems

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The Garden-Chair

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

TWO PORTRAITS.
A PLEASANT picture, full of meanings deep,
Old age, calm sitting in the July sun,
On withered hands half-leaning--feeble hands,

Upon A Snail

© John Bunyan

She goes but softly, but she goeth sure,

She stumbles not, as stronger creatures do.

Song. -- Fierce Roars The Midnight Storm

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

Fierce roars the midnight storm
O'er the wild mountain,
Dark clouds the night deform,
Swift rolls the fountain--

Down by the Sutlej shore,
Where sound the trumpet and the wild tum-tum,
At winter's eve did come
A gaunt old northern lion, at whose roar
The myriad howlers of thy wilds are dumb,
Blood-stained Ferozepore!

Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XVI

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Among the rest ('twas thus his dream went on
While Adrian slept) in more than courteous mood
And smiling welcome, fairer scarce was none,
That noble knight Natalia's husband stood,

For Peace

© Harriet Monroe

Flowers grow in the grass,
Baby footfalls pass
Over the fields once red,
Over the hero's head
For Peace.

Elegy I. To Charles Deodati (Translated From Milton)

© William Cowper

At length, my friend, the far-sent letters come,

Charged with thy kindness, to their destin'd home,

Found Letter by Joshua Weiner: American Life in Poetry #123 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

There is a type of poem, the Found Poem, that records an author's discovery of the beauty that occasionally occurs in the everyday discourse of others. Such a poem might be words scrawled on a wadded scrap of paper, or buried in the classified ads, or on a billboard by the road. The poet makes it his or her poem by holding it up for us to look at. Here the Washington, D.C., poet Joshua Weiner directs us to the poetry in a letter written not by him but to him.

Naples 1860

© John Greenleaf Whittier

I GIVE thee joy!I know to thee
The dearest spot on earth must be
Where sleeps thy loved one by the summer sea;

Sir Walter Scott

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

DEAD!it was like a thunderbolt
To hear that he was dead;
Though for long weeks the words of fear
Came from his dying bed;
Yet hope denied, and would deny
We did not think that he could die.

Life

© John Hall Wheelock

Life burns us up like fire,

And Song goes up in flame:

A Brother In Need

© Henrik Johan Ibsen

NOW, rallying once if ne'er again,

With flag at half-mast flown,

The Stolen God--Lazarus To Dives

© Edith Nesbit

We do not clamour for vengeance,

We do not whine for fear;

A Quiet Soul

© John Oldham

Thy soul within such silent pomp did keep,

As if humanity were lull'd asleep;

Earth

A midnight black with clouds is in the sky;

I seem to feel, upon my limbs, the weight

The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto II

What scene of agony the garden brings;
The cup of gall; the suppliant king of kings!
The crown of thorns; the cross, that felt him die;
These, languid in the sketch, unfinish'd lie.

Sonnet XXX. Life And Death. 2.

OR endless sleep 't will be, and that is rest,
Freedom forever from life's weary cares
Or else a life beyond the climbing stairs
And dizzy pinnacles of thought expressed