Life poems

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Hannah

© Thomas Parnell

Then Seek ye Subject & its song be mine
Whose numbers next in Sacred story shine;
Go brightly-working thought, prepard to fly
Above ye page on hov'ring pinnions ly,
& beat with stronger force to make thee rise
Where beautious Hannah meets ye searching eyes.

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"I cry your mercy-pity-love! -aye, love!"

© John Keats

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—aye, love!


 Merciful love that tantalizes not,

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Coole Park 1929

© William Butler Yeats

I MEDITATE upon a swallow's flight,

Upon a aged woman and her house,

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from Don Juan: Canto 1, Stanzas 47-48

© Lord Byron

47

Sermons he read, and lectures he endured,

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A Summer Garden

© Louise Gluck

1
Several weeks ago I discovered a photograph of my mother
sitting in the sun, her face flushed as with achievement or triumph.
The sun was shining. The dogs
were sleeping at her feet where time was also sleeping,
calm and unmoving as in all photographs.

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Poem 1 From Pierce Penilesse

© Thomas Nashe

Why ist damnation to dispaire and die,
When life is my true happinesse disease?
My soule, my soule, thy safetye makes me flie
The faultie meanes, that might my paine appease.

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from The Vanity of Human Wishes

© Henry James Pye

  Yet still one gen’ral cry the skies assails,
And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
Few know the toiling statesman’s fear or care,
Th’ insidious rival and the gaping heir.

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From 'Love And The Universe'

© Albert Durrant Watson

THE voiceless symphony of moor and highland,

  The rainbow on the mist,

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Sea Fever

© John Brooks Wheelwright

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,


And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

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Venus of the Louvre

© Emma Lazarus

Down the long hall she glistens like a star,


The foam-born mother of Love, transfixed to stone,

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Two Robbers

© Francis William Bourdillon

When Death from some fair face
Is stealing life away,
All weep, save she, the grace
That earth shall lose today.

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The Bounty

© Derek Walcott

Between the vision of the Tourist Board and the true 
Paradise lies the desert where Isaiah’s elations 
force a rose from the sand. The thirty-third canto

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Song (“The world is full of loss ... ”)

© Katha Pollitt

The world is full of loss; bring, wind, my love,
         my home is where we make our meeting-place,
         and love whatever I shall touch and read
         within that face.

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Beginning with 1914

© Paul Eluard

Since it always begins


in the unlikeliest place

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Glory To God; To Men Good Will!

© Joseph Furphy

Opposed to Jewish Temple-rites,
Strange to the lore of Greece,
That message comes from starry heights,
A key to lasting Peace.
What-e'er our creed, we own its thrill —
"Glory to God; to men good will!"

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Humidifier

© Louise Gluck

—After Robert Pinsky
Defier of closed space, such as the head, opener
Of the sealed passageways, so that
Sunlight entering the nose can once again

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The Vacuum

© Howard Nemerov

The house is so quiet now
The vacuum cleaner sulks in the corner closet, 
Its bag limp as a stopped lung, its mouth 
Grinning into the floor, maybe at my
Slovenly life, my dog-dead youth.

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The Elements of San Joaquin

© Gary Soto

The wind sprays pale dirt into my mouth
The small, almost invisible scars
On my hands.

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Mother and Child, Body and Soul

© Jean Valentine

Mother
It was autumn
I couldn't hear the students
only the music coming in the window, 
Se tu m’ami
If you love me