Life poems
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The Aeolian Harp
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
My pensive SARA! thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown
With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle,
The Givers Of Life
© Bliss William Carman
I.
WHO called us forth out of darkness and gave us the gift of life,
Who set our hands to the toiling, our feet in the field of strife?
Darkly they mused, predestined to knowledge of viewless things,
A Terre
© Wilfred Owen
Sit on the bed; I'm blind, and three parts shell,
Be careful; can't shake hands now; never shall.
Both arms have mutinied against me -- brutes.
My fingers fidget like ten idle brats.
Apologia Pro Poemate Meo
© Wilfred Owen
I, too, saw God through mud --
The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled.
War brought more glory to their eyes than blood,
And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.
Asleep
© Wilfred Owen
Under his helmet, up against his pack,
After the many days of work and waking,
Sleep took him by the brow and laid him back.
And in the happy no-time of his sleeping,
The Question.
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Beside us in our seeking after pleasures,
Through all our restless striving after fame,
Street Cries
© Sarojini Naidu
WHEN dawn's first cymbals beat upon the sky,
Rousing the world to labour's various cry,
To tend the flock, to bind the mellowing grain,
From ardent toil to forge a little gain,
And fasting men go forth on hurrying feet,
Buy bread, buy bread, rings down the eager street.
Epitaph on her Son H. P.
© Katherine Philips
WHat on Earth deserves our trust ?
Youth and Beauty both are dust.
Long we gathering are with pain,
What one moment calls again.
"An idle poet, dreaming"
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AN idle poet, dreaming in the sun,
One given to much unhallowed vagrancy
Of thought and step; who, when he comes to die.
In the broad world can point to nothing done;
In memory of that excellent person Mrs. Mary Lloyd of Bodidrist in Denbigh-shire
© Katherine Philips
I CANNOT hold, for though to write were rude,
Yet to be silent were Ingratitude,
And Folly too; for if Posterity
Should never hear of such a one as thee,
Unshriven
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Oh! the sun rose on the lea, and the bird sang merrilie,
And the steed stood ready harness'd in the hall,
And he left his lady's bower, and he sought the eastern tower,
And he lifted cloak and weapon from the wall.
La Solitude de St. Amant
© Katherine Philips
1O! Solitude, my sweetest choice
Places devoted to the night,
Remote from tumult, and from noise,
How you my restless thoughts delight!
Book Of Paradise - The Privileged Men
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
AFTER THE BATTLE OF BADE, BENEATH THE CANOPY OF HEAVEN.
The Debate Between Villon And His Heart
© Francois Villon
Who's that I hear?It's meWho?Your heart
Hanging on by the thinnest thread
I lose all my strength, substance, and fluid
When I see you withdrawn this way all alone
Ballade To Our Lady
© Francois Villon
I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call,
Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell,
Albeit in nought I be commendable.
A God's Labour
© Sri Aurobindo
I have gathered my dreams in a silver air
Between the gold and the blue
And wrapped them softly and left them there,
My jewelled dreams of you.
To Marguerite
© Ellis Parker Butler
So great my debt to thee, I know my life
Is all too short to pay the least I owe,
And though I live it all in that sweet strife,
Still shall I be insolvent when I go.
To Lovers
© Ellis Parker Butler
Ho, ye lovers, list to me;
Warning words have I for thee:
Give ye heed, hefore ye wed,
To this thing Sir Chaucer said:
