Life poems
/ page 52 of 844 /The Beasts In The Tower
© Charles Lamb
Within the precincts of this yard,
Each in his narrow confines barred,
Vaunting Oak
© John Crowe Ransom
He is a tower unleaning. But how hell break
If Heaven assault him with full wind and sleet,
And what uproar tall trees concumbent make!
To An Old Friend
© Edgar Albert Guest
When we have lived our little lives and wandered all their byways through,
When we've seen all that we shall see and finished all that we must do,
When we shall take one backward look off yonder where our journey ends,
I pray that you shall be as glad as I shall be that we were friends.
Halme Der Nacht
© Paul Celan
She combs her hair, like the dead are combed,
She carries the blue fragments under her robe.
The Lady And The Dame
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
So thou hast the art, good dame, thou swearest,
To keep Time's perishing touch at bay
Who is at my door?
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
He said, "Who is at my door?"
I said, "Your humble servant."
He said, "What business do you have?"
I said, "To greet you, 0 Lord."
Epistle (Upon his arrival at his estate in Geneva)
© Voltaire
Now hostile Crowds Geneva's Tow'rs assail,
They march in secret, and by Night they scale;
The Goddess comes--they vanish from the Wall,
Their Launces shiver, and their Heros fall,
For Fraud can ne'er elude, nor Force withstand
The Stroke of Liberty's victorious Hand.
(Untitled) by Joette Giorgis : American Life in Poetry #250 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I’m very fond of poems that demonstrate their authors’ attentiveness to the world about them, as regular readers of this column have no doubt noticed. Here is a nine-word poem by Joette Giorgis, who lives in Pennsylvania, that is based upon noticing and then thinking about something so ordinary that it might otherwise be overlooked. Even the separate words are flat and commonplace. But so much feeling comes through!
(Untitled)
children grown-
Pharsalia - Book X: Caesar In Egypt
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Caesar's ears in vain
Had she implored, but aided by her charms
The wanton's prayers prevailed, and by a night
Of shame ineffable, passed with her judge,
She won his favour.
To Ethna
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
First loved, last loved, best loved of all I've loved!
Ethna, my boyhood's dream, my manhood's light,
The Truant Dove, From Pilpay
© Charlotte Turner Smith
A MOUNTAIN stream, its channel deep
Beneath a rock's rough base had torn;
The River Of Dreams
© Henry Van Dyke
The river of dreams runs quietly down
From its hidden home in the forest of sleep,
Ode On The Sailing Of Our Troops For France
© John Jay Chapman
Go fight for Freedom, Warriors of the West!
At last the word is spoken: Go!
Lay on for Liberty. 'Twas at her breast
The tyrant aimed his blow;
And ye were wounded with the rest
In Belgium's overthrow.
Mothers' Splendid Dreams
© Edgar Albert Guest
Mothers dream such splendid dreams when their little babies smile,
Dreams of wondrous deeds they'll do in the happy after- while;
Every mother of a boy knows that in her arms is curled
One who some day will arise splendidly to serve the world.
The Columbiad: Book IX
© Joel Barlow
Shrouded in deeper darkness now he veers
The vast gyration of a thousand years,
Strikes out each lamp that would illume his way,
Disputes his food with every beast of prey;
Imbands his force to fence his trist abodes,
A wretched robber with his feudal codes.
Mine
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O HOW my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
And I drink up joy like wine:
O how my heart is beating as her name I keep repeating,
For the lovely girl is mine!