Life poems
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Rime 104
© Gaspara Stampa
O night to me more splendid and more blessed
Than the most blessed and most splendid of days,
Night worthy of the most exalted praise,
Not just of mine, unworthy and distressed,
Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 OClock Poems)
© Nazim Hikmet
Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...
The Bards, To The Soldiers Of Caractacus
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Spark of freedom, blaze on high!
Wilt thou quiver? shalt thou die?
Never, never! holy fire!
Mount, irradiate! beam, aspire!
Elysium Of Shades
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
Elysium of shades this soul of mine,
Shades silent, luminous, and wholly severed
From this tempestuous age, these restless times,
Their joys and griefs, their aims and their endeavours.
The Army of the Rear
© Henry Lawson
I LISTENED through the music and the sounds of revelry,
And all the hollow noises of that year of Jubilee;
Rocky Acres
© Robert Graves
This is a wild land, country of my choice,
With harsh craggy mountain, moor ample and bare.
A Dream
© Matthew Arnold
Was it a dream? We sail'd, I thought we sail'd,
Martin and I, down the green Alpine stream,
The Golden Corpse
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Stripped country, shrunken as a beggar's heart,
Inviolate landscape, hardened into steel,
Where the cold soil shatters under heel
Day after day like armor cracked apart.
"The Undying One" - Canto IV
© Caroline Norton
On she goes, and the waves are dashing
Under her stern, and under her prow;
Oh! pleasant the sound of the waters splashing
To those who the heat of the desert know.
Mid-Day
© John Kenyon
'Tis deepest Mid-day! Not a sound is heard,
Save this low insect-murmur; which yet seems
The Sleep Of Spring
© John Clare
O for that sweet, untroubled rest
That poets oft have sung!--
The babe upon its mother's breast,
The bird upon its young,
The heart asleep without a pain--
When shall I know that sleep again?
Reply To Rudyard Kipling's Poem: 'he travels the fast who travels alone'
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Who travels alone with his eye on the heights,
Though he laughs in the daytime, oft weeps through the nights;
For courage goes down with the set of the sun,
When the toil of the journey is all borne by one.
He speeds but to grief, though full gaily he ride,
Who travels alone without Love at his side.
To My Husband on Our Wedding-Day
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
I leave for thee, beloved one,
The home and friends of youth,
The Speeches of Gratulations
© Benjamin Jonson
Stay, what art thou, that in this strange attire,
Dar'st kindle stranger, and un-hallowed fire
Upon this Altar?
Don Juan: Canto The Seventeenth
© George Gordon Byron
The world is full of orphans: firstly, those
Who are so in the strict sense of the phrase
O'Connell
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
So let the verse in echoing accents ring,
So proudly sing,
With intermittent wail,
The nation's dead, but sceptred King,
The glory of the Gael.
The Paint-Kings
© Washington Allston
Fair Ellen was long the delight of the young,
No damsel could with her compare;
Her charms were the theme of the heart and the tongue.
And bards without number in extacies sung,
The beauties of Ellen the fair.
The Atlas
© Kenneth Slessor
I. The King of Cuckooz
THE King of Cuckooz Contrey
Hangs peaked above Argier
With Janzaries and Marabutts
The Invitation
© Robert Bloomfield
O for the strength to paint my joy once more!
That joy I feel when Winter's reign is o'er;
