Life poems
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The Heart of the Swag
© Henry Lawson
Oh, the track through the scrub groweth ever more dreary,
And lower and lower his grey head doth bow;
The "Story Of Ida"
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Weary of jangling noises never stilled,
The skeptic's sneer, the bigot's hate, the din
Pauline Pavlovna
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Ah! your heart said that?
You trust your heart, then! 'T is a serious risk!-
How is it you and others wear no mask?
HE.
The Moralizer Corrected. A Tale
© William Cowper
A hermit (or if chance you hold
That title now too trite and old),
Praise Of Colonus (From "Oedipus At Colonus")
© Sophocles
STRANGER, thou art standing now
On Colonus' sparry brow;
To My Sister: On Her Twenty-First Birthday
© George MacDonald
Old fables are not all a lie
That tell of wondrous birth,
Of Titan children, father Sky,
And mighty mother Earth.
The Australian Marseillaise
© Henry Lawson
We are marching on and onward
To the silver-streak of dawn,
To the dynasty of mankind
We are marching on.
The Borough. Letter X: Clubs And Social Meetings
© George Crabbe
Next is the Club, where to their friends in town
Our country neighbours once a month come down;
We term it Free-and-Easy, and yet we
Find it no easy matter to be free:
E'en in our small assembly, friends among,
Are minds perverse, there's something will be
The Heart Of The Bruce
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
It was upon an April morn,
While yet the frost lay hoar,
We heard Lord James's bugle-horn
Sound by the rocky shore.
April
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'T is the noon of the spring-time, yet never a bird
In the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard;
He's Taken Out His Papers
© Edgar Albert Guest
He's taken out his papers, an' he's just like you an' me.
He's sworn to love the Stars and Stripes an' die for it, says he.
An' he's done with dukes an' princes, an' he's done with kings an' queens,
An' he's pledged himself to freedom, for he knows what freedom means.
Love And Death
© Giacomo Leopardi
Children of Fate, in the same breath
Created were they, Love and Death.
A flame is in my blood
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
A flame is in my blood
burning dry life, to the bone.
I do not sing of stone,
now, I sing of wood.
The Wreck Of The Birkenhead,
© Frances Anne Kemble
As well as I am able, I'll relate how it befell,
And I trust, sirs, you'll excuse me, if I do not speak it well.
I've lived a hard and wandering life, serving our gracious Queen,
And have nigh forgot my schooling since a soldier I have been.
Baucis And Philemon
© Jonathan Swift
IN ancient times, as story tells,
The saints would often leave their cells,
And stroll about, but hide their quality,
To try good people's hospitality.
Psalm LXXXVI. (86)
© John Milton
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
The Good Of It
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SOME men strut proudly, all purple and gold,
Hiding queer deeds 'neath a cloak of good fame;
I creep along, braving hunger and cold,
To keep my heart stainless as well as my name;
So, so, where is the good of it?
Horatian Lyrics Odes I, 11.
© Eugene Field
What end the gods may have ordained for me,
And what for thee,
Seek not to learn, Leuconoe; we may not know;
Chaldean tables cannot bring us rest--
'Tis for the best
To bear in patience what may come, or weal or woe.
Intaglio - Frank Denz
© Henry Kendall
Oh, women and men who have known the perils of weather and wave,
It is sad that my sweet ones are blown under sea without shelter of grave;
I sob like a child in the night, when the gale on the waters is loud
My darlings went down in my sight, with neither a coffin nor shroud.
