Life poems
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Bells Beyond the Forest
© Henry Kendall
Wild-eyed woodlands, here I rest me, underneath the gaunt and ghastly trees;
Underneath fantastic-fronted caverns crammed with many a muffled breeze.
Cutting Hair by Minnie Bruce Pratt: American Life in Poetry #190 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004
© Ted Kooser
Occupational hazards, well, you have to find yourself in the occupation to know about those. Here Minnie Bruce Pratt of Alabama gives us an inside look at a kind of work we all have benefited from but may never have thought much about.
Cutting Hair
On The Plaza
© Bliss William Carman
One August day I sat beside
A café window open wide
To let the shower-fresh ened air
Blow in across the Plaza, where
The Song Of Hiawatha IV: Hiawatha And Mudjekeewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of childhood into manhood
Now had grown my Hiawatha,
Lifes a Cigar
© George Gordon McCrae
Lifes a cigar: the wasting body glows;
The head turns white as Kosciuskos snows;
And, with the last soul-fragrance still in air,
The ashes slowly sink in soft repose.
The Death of the Old Year
© Alfred Tennyson
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the winter winds are wearily sighing:
Fra Pedro
© Emma Lazarus
Golden lights and lengthening shadows,
Flings the splendid sun declining,
O'er the monastery garden
Rich in flower, fruit and foliage.
The Antiquity Of Freedom
© William Cullen Bryant
Here are old trees, tall oaks and gnarled pines,
That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground
Before
© William Ernest Henley
Behold me waiting-waiting for the knife.
A little while, and at a leap I storm
Sir Henry Wotton, and Serjeant Hoskins Riding On The Way
© Sir Henry Wotton
Ho. Noble, lovely, vertuous Creature,
Purposely so fram'd by Nature
To enthral your servants wits.
The Lady Of La Garaye - Dedication
© Caroline Norton
FRIEND of old days, of suffering, storm, and strife,
Patient and kind through many a wild appeal;
In the arena of thy brilliant life
Never too busy or too cold to feel:
The Tyrant
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
ONE comes with foot insistent to my door,
Calling my name;
Nor voice nor footstep have I heard before,
Yet clear the calling sounds and o'er and o'er--
It seems the sunlight burns along the floor
With paler flame!
The Stealing Of The Mare - V
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Said the Narrator:
And when the maidens and Alia had made an end of their talking, and they had said to her, ``Fear not, we are with thee, and of nothing of our souls will we be niggardly for thy sake, and all that thou hast done that too would we have done; and one such as is this knight were more worthy our possessing than all else in the world, for he is without guile and without blemish;--then Alia, hearing this, her heart was quieted, and she arose full of joy, and bent down and kissed the hands of Abu Zeyd. And all the damsels in like manner kissed his hands. And they undid their veils before him to the right and to the left. And Alia bade them bring meats in dishes, and the damsels brought them. And the servants and they rejoiced and were glad together. And when their meal was ended they brought wine and drank of it, and made merry until night fell on them. And they sang psalms and canticles, and played on instruments of music, nor did they leave their merriment for twenty nights, so that Abu Zeyd forgot his people, and it was to him as to one who had been born among them, nor cared he for aught that should happen in the land of Helal. But on the twenty and first night he remembered where he was, and how he had come thither, and the story of the ancient dame who had sought him and the pledge he had given her to obtain for her that which she desired. And tears came to his eyes and flowed down upon his beard. And when Alia saw this she arose and asked him why he wept. And he said, ``I have been remembering my people, and those that are dear to me afar and the business that I came on.'' And she said, ``Wait only till it be dark.'' And he waited until the night came. And she arose and fetched the keys and delivered to him the mare. And she brought him change of raiment and a skin of dates and butter and bread. And she said, ``Take me also with thee with the mare, and leave me not to suffer blame.'' And she clung to his stirrup. But he swore an oath to her that he would return and protect her from her father. And she let go the stirrup. And in that guise he left her, and they were both weeping. And Alia turned from him with weeping eyes, and lamented grievously at their parting. And he went his way through the desert, while she remained in her sorrow. And she sat upon the ground with the daughters of the great ones, and they burst forth all in lamentations and tears.
Then singeth again the Narrator:
The Kick Under The Table
© Edgar Albert Guest
After a man has been married awhile,
And his wife has grown used to his manner
In The Dials
© William Ernest Henley
To GARRYOWEN upon an organ ground
Two girls are jigging. Riotously they trip,
II from Lifes Testament
© William Baylebridge
The brain, the blood, the busy thews
That quickened in the primal ooze
Support me yet; till ice shall grip
The heart of Earth, no strength theyll lose.
The Bagman's Dog: Mr. Peters's Story
© Richard Harris Barham
It was a litter, a litter of five,
Four are drown'd and one left alive,
He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.
Autumn Woods
© William Cullen Bryant
Ere, in the northern gale,
The summer tresses of the trees are gone,
The woods of Autumn, all around our vale,
Have put their glory on.
Twenty-Second Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
What liberty so glad and gay,
As where the mountain boy,
Reckless of regions far away,
A prisoner lives in joy?
