Life poems
/ page 359 of 844 /
Old Letters --- English translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
I found some old letters today
You had secretly treasured them like toys
Nova
© Robinson Jeffers
That Nova was a moderate star like our good sun; it stored no
doubt a little more than it spent
A Narrow Girdle Of Rough Stones And Crags,
© William Wordsworth
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A rude and natural causeway, interposed
The Discontented Manicure Scissors
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Said the manicure scissors one day,
"The shears always have their own way,
And I think it absurd
That I am deterred
From entering into life's fray.
The Thracian Stone
© Katharine Lee Bates
"The faieries gave him the propertie of the Thracian stone; for who toucheth it is exempted from griefe."
The fairies to his cradle came to play their fairy part,
The Red River Voyageur
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Out and in the river is winding
The links of its long, red chain,
Through belts of dusky pine-land
And gusty leagues of plain.
On Music
© Walter Savage Landor
MANY love music but for musics sake;
Many because her touches can awake
Thoughts that repose within the breast half dead,
And rise to follow where she loves to lead.
He Who Serves
© Edgar Albert Guest
He has not served who gathers gold,
Nor has he served, whose life is told
In selfish battles he has won,
Or deeds of skill that he has done;
But he has served who now and then
Has helped along his fellow men.
Sun-Dial, In The Churchyard Of Bremhill
© William Lisle Bowles
So passes silent o'er the dead thy shade,
Brief Time; and hour by hour, and day by day,
The pleasing pictures of the present fade,
And like a summer vapour steal away!
In Remembrance Of Joseph Sturge
© John Greenleaf Whittier
In the fair land o'erwatched by Ischia's mountains,
Across the charmed bay
Whose blue waves keep with Capri's silver fountains
Perpetual holiday,
Sonnets of the Empire:Australia, 1902
© Archibald Thomas Strong
Yet tis not calm that builds the hero breed,
High hearts are tempered neath a stormy star,
Through want and danger doth the soul increase,
Stern rings the clarion voice of Angel Need
To bid thee vanquish self, and gaze afar
And save thy soul alive from Harlot Peace.
'Snapdragon' a Riddle for a Flower Book
© John Henry Newman
I am rooted in the wall
Of buttress'd tower or ancient hall;
Prison'd in an art-wrought bed.
Cased in mortar, cramp'd with lead;
Of a living stock alone
Brother of the lifeless stone.
Loves Caprices
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
COME, sweetheart, hear me! I have loved thee well,
God knoweth. Through all these years my holiest thoughts,
Like those pure doves nurtured in antique temples,
Have fluttered ever round thine image fair,
Rip Van Winkle. Canto I.
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
OLD Rip Van Winkle had a grandson, Rip,
Of the paternal block a genuine chip,âÂ
A lazy, sleepy, curious kind of chap;
He, like his grandsire, took a mighty nap,
Whereof the story I propose to tell
In two brief cantos, if you listen well.
Jenifer's Love
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Small is my secret-let it pass-
Small in your life the share I had,
Who sat beside you in the class,
Awed by the bright superior lad:
Whom yet with hot and eager face
I prompted when he missed his place.
Inscriptions: IV: O Youths And Virgins
© Mark Akenside
O youths and virgins: o declining eld:
O pale misfortune's slaves: o ye who dwell
A day 8 Years Ago (At bachar ager Ekadin)
© Jibanananda Das
It was heard
They took him to the morgue.
Last night in the February dark
When the crescent moon, five days toward full, had set
He'd had the urge to die.
The Borough. Letter III: The Vicar--The Curate
© George Crabbe
THE VICAR.
WHERE ends our chancel in a vaulted space,
Fireflies
© Rabindranath Tagore
My fancies are fireflies,
Specks of living light
twinkling in the dark.
