Life poems

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Miss Killmansegg And Her Precious Leg. A Legend

© Thomas Hood

“Who hath not felt that breath in the air,

A perfume and freshness strange and rare,

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The Bride Of The Greek Isle

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Fear! I'm a Greek, and how should I fear death?
A slave, and wherefore should I dread my freedom?
I will not live degraded ~ Sardanapalus

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Friar Lubin. (From The French)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

ENVOY
When an evil deed 's to do
Friar Lubin is stout and true;
Glimmers a ray of goodness through it,
Friar Lubin cannot do it.

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The Columbiad: Book VII

© Joel Barlow

He spoke; his moving armies veil'd the plain,
His fleets rode bounding on the western main;
O'er lands and seas the loud applauses rung,
And war and union dwelt on every tongue.

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The Joys Of Home

© Edgar Albert Guest

Curling smoke from a chimney low,
And only a few more steps to go,
Faces pressed at a window pane
Watching for someone to come again,
And I am the someone they wait to see--
These are the joys life gives to me.

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My Shy Hand

© Wilfred Owen

My shy hand shades a hermitage apart, -
  O large enough for thee, and thy brief hours.
Life there is sweeter held than in God's heart,
  Stiller than in the heavens of hollow flowers.

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The Conversazzhony

© Eugene Field

What conversazzhyonies wuz I really did not know,
For that, you must remember, wuz a powerful spell ago;
The camp wuz new 'nd noisy, 'nd only modrit sized,
So fashionable sossiety wuz hardly crystallized.

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The Bibliomaniac's Prayer

© Eugene Field

Keep me, I pray, in wisdom's way
That I may truths eternal seek;
I need protecting care to-day,--
My purse is light, my flesh is weak.

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The Bibliomaniac's Bride

© Eugene Field

The women-folk are like to books,--
Most pleasing to the eye,
Whereon if anybody looks
He feels disposed to buy.

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Prometheus, Or, The Poet's Forethought. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Of Prometheus, how undaunted
  On Olympus' shining bastions
His audacious foot he planted,
Myths are told and songs are chanted,
  Full of promptings and suggestions.

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She Came And Went

© James Russell Lowell

As a twig trembles, which a bird
  Lights on to sing, then leaves unbent,
So is my memory thrilled and stirred;—
  I only know she came and went. 

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Hymn

© Sir Walter Raleigh

Rise, O my soul! with thy desires to heaven,
And with divinest contemplation use
Thy time, when time's eternity is given,
And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse;
But down in darkness let them lie;
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die.

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Hafbur And Signy

© William Morris

It was the King’s son Hafbur
Woke up amid the night,
And ’gan to tell of a wondrous dream
In swift words nowise light.

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Ode to Melancholy

© Mary Darby Robinson

SORC'RESS of the Cave profound!
 Hence, with thy pale, and meagre train,
 Nor dare my roseate bow'r profane,
 Where light-heel'd mirth despotic reigns,
 Slightly bound in feath'ry chains,
 And scatt'ring blisses round.

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Vull a Man

© William Barnes

No, I’m a man, I’m vull a man,
You beat my manhood, if you can.
You’ll be a man if you can teake
All steates that household life do meake.

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Sister's cake

© Eugene Field

I'd not complain of Sister Jane, for she was good and kind,
Combining with rare comeliness distinctive gifts of mind;
Nay, I'll admit it were most fit that, worn by social cares,
She'd crave a change from parlor life to that below the stairs,
And that, eschewing needlework and music, she should take
Herself to the substantial art of manufacturing cake.

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Fourteenth Sunday After Trinity

© John Keble

Ten cleansed, and only one remain!

Who would have thought our nature's stain

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Veni, Vidi, Vixi (French & English)

© Victor Marie Hugo

J'ai bien assez vécu, puisque dans mes douleurs
Je marche, sans trouver de bras qui me secourent,
Puisque je ris à peine aux enfants qui m'entourent,
Puisque je ne suis plus réjoui par les fleurs ;

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Pittypat and Tippytoe

© Eugene Field

All day long they come and go--
Pittypat and Tippytoe;
Footprints up and down the hall,
Playthings scattered on the floor,

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Our biggest fish

© Eugene Field

When in the halcyon days of old, I was a little tyke,
I used to fish in pickerel ponds for minnows and the like;
And oh, the bitter sadness with which my soul was fraught
When I rambled home at nightfall with the puny string I'd caught!
And, oh, the indignation and the valor I'd display
When I claimed that all the biggest fish I'd caught had got away!