Life poems

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The Coming By-and-By

© William Schwenck Gilbert

Silvered is the raven hair,
Spreading is the parting straight,
Mottled the complexion fair,
Halting is the youthful gait,

An Heroic Epistle of Hudibras To His Lady

© Samuel Butler

I who was once as great as Caesar,

Am now reduc'd to Nebuchadnezzar;

The Laurustinus

© James Montgomery

Fair tree of winter! fresh and flowering,

When all around is dead and dry;

Invitation To Eternity

© John Clare

Say, wilt thou go with me, sweet maid,

Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me

Composed By The Sea-Side, Near Calais, August 1802

© William Wordsworth

FAIR Star of evening, Splendour of the west,
Star of my Country!--on the horizon's brink
Thou hangest, stooping, as might seem, to sink
On England's bosom; yet well pleased to rest,

Go not away, thou weary soul:
Heaven has in store a precious dole
Here on Bethsaida's cold and darksome height,
Where over rocks and sands arise
Proud Sirion in the northern skies,
And Tabor's lonely peak, 'twixt thee and noonday light.

Autumn

© Samuel Johnson

Alas! with swift and silent pace,
Impatient time rolls on the year;
The Seasons change, and Nature's face
Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe.

For Whittiers Seventieth Birthday

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

I BELIEVE that the copies of verses I've spun,
Like Scheherezade's tales, are a thousand and one;
You remember the story,--those mornings in bed,--
'T was the turn of a copper,--a tale or a head.

A Girls' Grave

© Patrick Edward Quinn

What story is here of broken love,
What idyllic sad romance,
What arrow fretted the silken dove
That met with such grim mischance?

To the memory of my dear Daughter in Law, Mrs. Mercy Bradstreet, who deceased Sept. 6. 1669. in the

© Anne Bradstreet

And live I still to see Relations gone,

And yet survive to sound this wailing tone;

The Brother Of Mercy

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Piero Luca, known of all the town
As the gray porter by the Pitti wall
Where the noon shadows of the gardens fall,
Sick and in dolor, waited to lay down
His last sad burden, and beside his mat
The barefoot monk of La Certosa sat.

The Golden Legend: V. A Covered Bridge At Lucerne

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

_Prince Henry_ The grim musician
Leads all men through the mazes of that dance,
To different sounds in different measures moving;
Sometimes he plays a lute, sometimes a drum,
To tempt or terrify.

Names And Faces

© Edgar Albert Guest

I do not ask a store of wealth,

Nor special gift of power;

Nightfall

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Sweet after labour, soft and whispering night
Blows on dark fields and fragrant country here:
Here there is sleep, to weary limbs delight;
The world is far away, the stars are near.

John

© Edgar Bowers

Before he wrote a poem, he learned the measure

That living in the future gives a farm-

The Grand Question Debated: Whether Hamiltons Bawn Should Be Turned Into A Barrack Or Malt-House

Thus spoke to my lady the knight full of care,
"Let me have your advice in a weighty affair.
This Hamilton's bawn, while it sticks in my hand
I lose by the house what I get by the land;

The Streams

© John Kenyon

Two streams there were, two streams from separate founts,

Both beautiful to see, and onemost holy;

De Profundis

NOT yet are deeds fruition of my thought,

Nor is this body symbol of my soul,

A Hidden Life

Ah God! when Beauty passes by the door,
Although she ne'er came in, the house grows bare.
Shut, shut the door; there's nothing in the house.
Why seems it always that it should be ours?
A secret lies behind which Thou dost know,
And I can partly guess.