Life poems
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Doing Nothing
© Roderic Quinn
WITH the sorrow on me
Neighbours come and go
Think me vain and foolish
Nursing up my woe.
Within and Without: Part I: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
Robert.
Head in your hands as usual! You will fret
Your life out, sitting moping in the dark.
Come, it is supper-time.
The Outlaw
© Charles Kingsley
Oh, I wadna be a yeoman, mither, to follow my father's trade,
To bow my back in miry banks, at pleugh and hoe and spade.
Stinting wife, and bairns, and kye, to fat some courtier lord,-
Let them die o' rent wha like, mither, and I'll die by sword.
I Am Young
© George Frederick Cameron
I AM young, and men
Who long ago have passed their prime
Would fain have what I have again,
Youth, and it may betime.
The Christening
© Caroline Norton
So let it be! and when the noble head
Of thy true-hearted father, babe beloved,
Now glossy dark, is silver-gray instead,
And thy young birth-day far away removed;
Still may'st thou be a comfort and a joy,--
Still welcome as this day, unconscious boy!
Since Ive Been In Jail
© Nazim Hikmet
Since I've been in jail
the world has turned around the sun ten times
Herve Riel
© Robert Browning
On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety two,
Did the English fight the French,--woe to France!
And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter thro' the blue.
Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue,
Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance,
With the English fleet in view.
Echoes Of Spring
© Mathilde Blind
I.
I WALK about in driving snow,
And drizzling rain, splashed o'er and o'er;
No sign that radiant spring e'en now
Stands at the threshold of the door.
Henry Howard Brownell
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
They never crowned him, never dreamed his worth,
And let him go unlaurelled to the grave:
George and Sarah Green
© William Wordsworth
WHO weeps for strangers? Many wept
For George and Sarah Green;
Wept for that pair's unhappy fate,
Whose grave may here be seen.
An Hour Of Romance
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
There were thick leaves above me and around,
And low sweet sighs like those of childhood's sleep,
The Death Of Admiral Blake
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Laden with spoil of the South, fulfilled with the glory of achievement,
And freshly crowned with never-dying fame,
Sweeping by shores where the names are the names of the victories of England,
Across the Bay the squadron homeward came.
Advice To A Raven In Russia (1812)
© Joel Barlow
Black fool, why winter here? These frozen skies,
Worn by your wings and deafen'd by your cries,
The Voyagers
© Roderic Quinn
HOW was it with the Genoese,
What feeling filled his heaving breast,
When far across the morning seas
He saw the island of his quest?
Father William
© Lewis Carroll
"You are old, father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head -
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"
Breitmann In Politics
© Charles Godfrey Leland
VHEN ash de var vas ober, und Beace her shnow-wice vings
Vas vafin' o'er de coondry (in shpodts) like efery dings
Und heroes vere revardtet, de beople all pegan
To say 'tvas shame dat nodings vas done for Breitemann.
