Life poems
/ page 495 of 844 /Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: LVIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
It might not be. Some things are possible,
And some impossible for even God.
And Esther had no soul which Heaven or Hell
Could touch by joy or soften by the rod.
Plaint Of The Missouri 'Coon In The Berlin Zoological Gardens
© Eugene Field
Friend, by the way you hump yourself you're from the States, I know,
And born in old Mizzourah, where the 'coons in plenty grow;
Basil Moss
© Henry Kendall
SING, mountain-wind, thy strong, superior song
Thy haughty alpine anthem, over tracts
To The Moon Of The South
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Let him go down,--the gallant Sun!
His work is nobly done;
Well may He now absorb
Within his solid orb
The American Way
© Gregory Corso
I am a great American
I am almost nationalistic about it!
I love America like a madness!
But I am afraid to return to America
I’m even afraid to go into the American Express—
Bible Defense of Slavery
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Take sackcloth of the darkest dye,
And shroud the pulpits round!
Servants of Him that cannot lie,
Sit mourning on the ground.
William Blake
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THIS is the place. Even here the dauntless soul,
The unflinching hand, wrought on; till in that nook,
Farewell to Matilda
© Thomas Love Peacock
Oui, pour jamais
Chassons l’image
De la volage
Que j’adorais. PARNY.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 02 - Nature And Composition Of The Mind
© Lucretius
First, then, I say, the mind which oft we call
The intellect, wherein is seated life's
X Minus X
© Kenneth Fearing
Still there will be your desire, and hers, and his hopes and theirs,
Your laughter, their laughter,
Your curse and his curse, her reward and their reward, their dismay and his dismay and her dismay and yours—
My Last Afternoon with Uncle Devereux Winslow
© Robert Lowell
a black pile and a white pile....
Come winter,
Uncle Devereux would blend to the one color.
God Is My Witness
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
God knows it. And he knows how the world's tear
Touched me. And He is witness of my wrath,
How it was kindled against murderers
Who slew for gold, and how upon their path
I met them. Since which day the World in arms
Strikes at my life with angers and alarms.
Black Earth
© Marianne Clarke Moore
Openly, yes,
With the naturalness
Of the hippopotamus or the alligator
When it climbs out on the bank to experience the
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto IV.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III Compensation
That nothing here may want its praise,
Know, she who in her dress reveals
A fine and modest taste, displays
More loveliness than she conceals.
You Say, Columbus with his Argosies
© Trumbull Stickney
You say, Columbus with his argosies
Who rash and greedy took the screaming main
Little Father
© Li-Young Lee
I buried my father
in the sky.
Since then, the birds
clean and comb him every morning
and pull the blanket up to his chin
every night.
A Winter Piece
© William Cullen Bryant
The time has been that these wild solitudes,
Yet beautiful as wild, were trod by me
Oftener than now; and when the ills of life
Had chafed my spirit--when the unsteady pulse
The House of Life: 97. A Superscription
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise
Of that wing'd Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,
Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart
Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.