Life poems

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The Vision Of Judgment

© George Gordon Byron

I.

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate:

From House To House

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

The first was like a dream through summer heat,
The second like a tedious numbing swoon,
While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat
Beneath a winter moon.

The Last Song of Sappho

© Giacomo Leopardi

Thou tranquil night, and thou, O gentle ray

Of the declining moon; and thou, that o'er

The Maid of Toro

© Sir Walter Scott

O, low shone the sun on the fair lake of Toro,

And weak were the whispers that waved the dark wood,

Your peaks are beautiful, ye Apennines!
In the soft light of these serenest skies;
From the broad highland region, black with pines,
Fair as the hills of Paradise they rise,
Bathed in the tint Peruvian slaves behold
In rosy flushes on the virgin gold.

Song Of The Wheelman

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Down the smooth pavements, and out toward the heather-
Ho! fellows, ho! I am coming you see!

A Creature Catechism

© Bliss William Carman

I

Soul, what art thou in the tribes of the sea?

The Aurora On The Clyde

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

AH me, how heavily the night comes down,
Heavily, heavily:
Fade the curved shores, the blue hills' serried throng,
The darkening waves we oared in light and song:

Occurrence on Washburn Avenue by Regan Huff : American Life in Poetry #212 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La

© Ted Kooser

We've published this column about American life for over four years, and we have finally found a poem about one of the great American pastimes, bowling. Occurrence on Washburn Avenue

Alice's first strike gets a pat on the back,

A Life's Story

© Edith Nesbit

THE morning broke in a pearly haze,
Then the east grew duskly red:
'Oh, my only day, oh, my day of days,
To-day he will come,' I said.

The Emigrants Monument At Point St. Charles

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

A kindly thought, a generous deed,
Ye gallant sons of toil!
No nobler trophy could ye raise
On your adopted soil
Than this monument to your kindred dead,
Who sleep beneath in their cold, dark bed.

Florio : A Tale, For Fine Gentleman And Fine Ladies. In Two Parts

© Hannah More

PART I.

Florio, a youth of gay renown,

After Long Grief

© Madison Julius Cawein

There is a place hung o'er of summer boughs

And dreamy skies wherein the gray hawk sleeps;

Salute To The Trees

© Henry Van Dyke

Many a tree is found in the wood

And every tree for its use is good:

Sick Room

How quiet
It is in this sick room
Where on the bed
A silent woman lies between two lovers-
Life and Death,
And all three covered with a sheet of pain.

Songs with Preludes: Regret

© Jean Ingelow

O that word REGRET!

There have been nights and morns when we have sighed,

The Patient's Sweater

A life of its own and a long one is led
By this penguin, with nothing to do with the breast-
The wingless pullover, the patient's old vest;
Now pass it some warmth, move the lamp to the bed.