Life poems
/ page 327 of 844 /Inspiration
© Samuel Johnson
LIFE of Ages, richly poured,
Love of God, unspent and free,
Flowing in the Prophets word
And the Peoples liberty!
What Makes An Artist
© Edgar Albert Guest
We got to talking art one day, discussing in a general way
How some can match with brush and paint the glory of a tree,
And some in stone can catch the things of which the dreamy poet sings,
While others seem to have no way to tell the joys they see.
The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The First
© Mark Akenside
With what attractive charms this goodly frame
Of nature touches the consenting hearts
A Revolutionary Hero
© James Russell Lowell
Old Joe is gone, who saw hot Percy goad
His slow artillery up the Concord road,
Expectation
© Edgar Albert Guest
Most folks, as I've noticed, in pleasure an' strife,
Are always expecting too much out of life.
Sonnet 61: Oft With True Sighs
© Sir Philip Sidney
Oft with true sighs, oft with uncalled tears,
Now with slow words, now with dumb eloquence
I Stella's eyes assail, invade her ears;
But this at last is her sweet breath'd defense:
The Moon Flower
© Lala Fisher
I know a valley- through its solitude
A brown road winds towards a mountain crest;
In Memoriam
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Yet not of these I muse
In this ancestral place,
But of a kindred face
That never joy or hope shall here diffuse.
The Bill of the Ages
© Henry Lawson
He has rowed to a wreck, when the lifeboat failed, with Jim in a crazy boat;
He has given his lifebelt many a time, and sunk that another might float.
He has stood em off while others escaped, when the niggers rushed from the hill,
And rescue parties who came too late have found what was left of Bill.
At Parting
© Edith Nesbit
Go, since you must, but, Dearest, know
That, Honour having bid you go,
Your honour, if your life be spent,
Shall have a costly monument.
The Woman of Whom Satan Had Bound
© George MacDonald
For years eighteen she, patient soul,
Her eyes had graveward sent;
Her earthly life was lapt in dole,
She was so bowed and bent.
The Angel
© Virna Sheard
Down the white ward with slow, unswerving tread
He came ere break of day--
A cowl was drawn about his down-bent head,
His misty robes were grey.
The Magdalen At The Madonnas Shrine
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
O Madonna, pure and holy,
From sins dark stain ever free,
Ultima Ratio Regum
© Stephen Spender
The guns spell money's ultimate reason
In letters of lead on the spring hillside.
But the boy lying dead under the olive trees
Was too young and too silly
To have been notable to their important eye.
He was a better target for a kiss.
The Judgement of Hercules
© William Shenstone
Wrapp'd in a pleased suspense, the youth survey'd
The various charms of each attractive maid:
Alternate each he view'd, and each admired,
And found, alternate, varying flames inspired:
Quick o'er their forms his eyes with pleasure ran,
When she, who first approach'd him, first began:-
Labor Is Prayer
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
LABORARE est orare:
We, black-visaged sons of toil,
From the coal-mine and the anvil
And the delving of the soil,--