Life poems
/ page 208 of 844 /The Chain Gang
© John Le Gay Brereton
Borne in the car along a crowded way,
Sun-soaked, I saw the world like shadows glide,
Revenge
© Edgar Albert Guest
If I had hatred in my heart toward my fellow man,
If I were pressed to do him ill, to conjure up a plan
To wound him sorely and to rob his days of all their joy,
I'd wish his wife would go away and take their little boy.
A Star In The East
© Edith Nesbit
FOR THE ART EXHIBITION AT ST. JUDE'S, WHITECHAPEL
LIKE a fair flower springing fresh, sweet, and bright,
A Marriage Ring
© George Crabbe
THE ring, so worn as you behold,
So thin, so pale, is yet of gold:
The passion such it was to prove
Worn with lifes care, love yet was love.
Brightens Sister-In-Law [or The Carrier's Story]
© Henry Lawson
AT A POINT where the old road crosses
The river, and turns to the right,
The Gift Of The Gods
© Edith Nesbit
"GIVE me thy dreams," she said, and I
With empty hands and very poor,
Watched my fair flowery visions die
Upon the temple's marble floor.
Freedom in Faith
© Charles Harpur
HIS MIND alone is kingly who (though one)
But venerates of present things or past
A Story of the Sea-Shore
© George MacDonald
It was a simple tale, a monotone:
She climbed one sunny hill, gazed once abroad,
Then wandered down, to pace a dreary plain;
Alas! how many such are told by night,
In fisher-cottages along the shore!
Rosemary
© Madison Julius Cawein
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay;
Around her, flowers scattered earth with gold,
Or down the path in insolence held sway--
Like cavaliers who ride the elves' highway--
Scarlet and blue, within a garden old.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto V
© Richard Savage
My hermit thus. She beckons us away:
Oh, let us swift the high behest obey!
To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
© Samuel Johnson
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
The Sleep-Walkers
© Khalil Gibran
And the mother spoke, and she said: "At last, at last, my enemy!
You by whom my youth was destroyed--who have built up your life
upon the ruins of mine! Would I could kill you!"
Cry Of The Children
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
Advent Sunday
© John Keble
Awake-again the Gospel-trump is blown -
From year to year it swells with louder tone,
From year to year the signs of wrath
Are gathering round the Judge's path,
Strange words fulfilled, and mighty works achieved,
And truth in all the world both hated and believed.
The Sang O' The Auld Fowk
© George MacDonald
Doon cam the sunbeams, and up gaed the stour,
As we spangt ower the road at ten mile the hoor,
The horse wasna timmer, the cart wasna strae,
And little cared we for the burn or the brae.