Life poems
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Stanzas Subjoined To The Yearly Bill Of Mortality Of The Parish Of All-Saints, Northampton. Anno Dom
© William Cowper
Could I, from Heaven inspired, as sure presage
To whom the rising year shall prove his last,
As I can number in my punctual page,
And item down the victims of the past;
Turning Forty by Kevin Griffith: American Life in Poetry #13 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-200
© Ted Kooser
Birthdays, especially those which mark the passage of a decade, are occasions not only for celebration, but for reflection. In "Turning Forty," Ohio poet Kevin Griffith conveys a confusion of sentiments. The speaker feels a sense of peace at forty, but recalls a more powerful, more confident time in his life.
The Chamois Hunter's Love
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thy heart is in the upper world, where fleet the chamois bounds;
Thy heart is where the mountain-fir shakes to the torrent-sounds;
And where the snow-peaks gleam like stars, through the stillness of the air,
And where the Lauwine's peal is heart - Hunter! thy heart is there!
To A. Patchett Martin
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
I 'VE something of the bulldog in my breed,
The spaniel is developed rather less,
While life is in me I can fight and bleed,
But never the chastising hand caress.
Heather Ale: A Galloway Legend
© Robert Louis Stevenson
FROM the bonny bells of heather
They brewed a drink long-syne,
Dim by Jim Daniels: American Life in Poetry #34 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
In this poem by Pittsburgh resident Jim Daniels, a father struggles to heal his son’s grief after an incident at school. The poem reminds us that when we’re young little things can hurt in a big way.
At Beauty's Bar As I Did Stand
© George Gascoigne
AT Beauty's bar as I did stand,
When False Suspect accused,
``George,'' quod the judge, ``hold up thy hand;
Thou art arraigned of flattery.
Tell therefore how thou wilt be tried.
Whose judgment here wilt thou abide?''
Womanhood
© Madison Julius Cawein
The summer takes its hue
From something opulent as fair in her,
And the bright heaven is brighter than it was;
Brighter and lovelier,
Arching its beautiful blue,
Serene and soft, as her sweet gaze, o'er us.
Explanation Of An Ancient Woodcut
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Soon as the spring-sun meets his view,
Repose begets him labour anew;
He feels that he holds within his brain
A little world, that broods there amain,
And that begins to act and to live,
Which he to others would gladly give.
Southampton Water
© William Lisle Bowles
Smooth went our boat upon the summer seas,
Leaving, for so it seemed, the world behind,
Twistable Turnable Man
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
He's the Twistable Turnable Squeezable Pullable
Stretchable Foldable Man.
The Conversation Of Eiros And Charmion
© Edgar Allan Poe
Dreams are with us no more;but of these mysteries
anon. I rejoice to see you looking life-like and rational.
The film of the shadow has already passed from off your
eyes. Be of heart, and fear nothing. Your allotted days of
stupor have expired, and to-morrow I will myself induct you
into the full joys and wonders of your novel existence.
The Dark Lady Sonnets (127 - 154)
© William Shakespeare
CXXVII
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's successive heir,
Comfort of the Fields
© Archibald Lampman
What would'st thou have for easement after grief,
When the rude world hath used thee with despite,
And care sits at thine elbow day and night,
Filching thy pleasures like a subtle thief?
The Tower of the Dream
© Charles Harpur
But not thus always are our dreams benign;
Oft are they miscreationsgloomier worlds,
Crowded tempestuously with wrongs and fears,
More ghastly than the actual ever knew,
And rent with racking noises, such as should
Go thundering only through the wastes of hell.
The Charnel Rose: A Symphony
© Conrad Aiken
And a silent star slipped golden down the darkness,
Down the great wall, leaving no trace in the sky,
And years went with it, and worlds. And he dreamed still
Of a fleeter shadow among the shadows running,
Foam into foam, without a gesture or cry,
Leaving him there, alone, on a lonely hill.
The Other
© Sylvia Plath
You come in late, wiping your lips.
What did I leave untouched on the doorstep--
