Life poems

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By the Hoof of the Wild Goat

© Rudyard Kipling

By the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed
From the cliff where she lay in the Sun
Fell the Stone
To the Tarn where the daylight is lost,
So she fell from the light of the Sun
And alone!

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Tho' Lack of Laurels

© Trumbull Stickney

 Tho' lack of laurels and of wreaths not one

  Prove you our lives abortive, shall we yet

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Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 03

© Torquato Tasso

XXXIII

Thus passed she, praised, wished, and wondered at,

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The Lady of the Lake: Canto IV. - The Prophecy

© Sir Walter Scott

Ellen.
'Well, be it as thou wilt;
I hear, But cannot stop the bursting tear.'
The Minstrel tried his simple art,
Rut distant far was Ellen's heart.

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A British-Roman Song

© Rudyard Kipling

My father's father saw it not,
And I, belike, shall never come
To look on that so-holly spot--
That very Rome--

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Impromptu

© Alfred Austin

Tell me your race, your name,

O Lady limned as dead, yet as when living fair!

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To Miss --,

© Samuel Johnson

{On her playing upon the harpsichord in

a room hung with flower-pieces of her own painting}.

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My After-Dinner Cloud

© Henry Sambrooke Leigh

Some sombre evening, when I sit
And feed in solitude at home,
Perchance an ultra-bilious fit
Paints all the world an orange chrome.

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Beast and Man in India

© Rudyard Kipling

Written for John Lockwood Kipling's
They killed a Child to please the Gods
In Earth's young penitence,
And I have bled in that Babe's stead
Because of innocence.

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The Ballad of the King's Mercy

© Rudyard Kipling

Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told.
His mercy fills the Khyber hills -- his grace is manifold;
He has taken toll of the North and the South -- his glory reacheth far,
And they tell the tale of his charity from Balkh to Kandahar.

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Youth And Knowledge

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

What price, child, shall I pay for your bright eyes
(How large a debt!) the light they shed on me?
What for your cheeks, so red in their surprise,
Your lips, your hands, your maiden gestures free,

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The Ballad of Fisher's Boarding-House

© Rudyard Kipling

'T was Fultah Fisher's boarding-house,
Where sailor-men reside,
And there were men of all the ports
From Mississip to Clyde,
And regally they spat and smoked,
And fearsomely they lied.

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The Ballad of East and West

© Rudyard Kipling

Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!

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Ireland

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

They are dying! they are dying! where the golden corn is growing;
  They are dying! they are dying! where the crowded herds are lowing:
  They are gasping for existence where the streams of life are flowing,
  And they perish of the plague where the breeze of health is blowing!

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Breitmann As A Bummer

© Charles Godfrey Leland

DER SHENERAL SHERMAN holts oop on his coorse,
He shtops at de gross-road und reins in his horse.
"Dere's a ford on de rifer dis day we moost dake,
Or elshe de grand army in bieces shall preak!"

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As the Bell Clinks

© Rudyard Kipling

As I left the Halls at Lumley, rose the vision of a comely
Maid last season worshipped dumbly, watched with fervor from afar;
And I wondered idly, blindly, if the maid would greet me kindly.
That was all -- the rest was settled by the clinking tonga-bar.
Yea, my life and hers were coupled by the tonga coupling-bar.

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In Tempore Senectutis

© Ernest Christopher Dowson

When I am old,

And sadly steal apart,

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The Ballad Of The Battle Of Gibeon

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Sudden and still as a bolt shot right
Up on the city we went by night.
Never a bird of the air could say,
'This was the children of Israel's way.'

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Sestina Of The Tramp-Royal

© Rudyard Kipling

Speakin' in general, I'ave tried 'em all
The 'appy roads that take you o'er the world.
Speakin' in general, I'ave found them good
For such as cannot use one bed too long,
But must get 'ence, the same as I'ave done,
An' go observin' matters till they die.

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On A Portrait Of Dante By Giotto

© James Russell Lowell

Can this be thou who, lean and pale,

  With such immitigable eye