Men poems
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Eclogue 5: Menalcas Mopsus
© Publius Vergilius Maro
MENALCAS
Why, Mopsus, being both together met,
You skilled to breathe upon the slender reeds,
I to sing ditties, do we not sit down
Here where the elm-trees and the hazels blend?
History
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Time has stored all, but keeps his chronicle
In secret, beyond all our probe or gauge.
There flows the human story, vast and full;
And here a muddy trickle smears the page.
The Dispossessed
© Sylvia Plath
The enormous mortgage must be paid somehow,
so if you can dream up any saving plan
tell me quick, darling, tell me now.
Madmen
© Billy Collins
They say you can jinx a poem
if you talk about it before it is done.
If you let it out too early, they warn,
your poem will fly away,
and this time they are absolutely right.
Greatness
© Edgar Albert Guest
We can be great by helping one another;
We can be loved for very simple deeds;
Who has the grateful mention of a brother
Has really all the honor that he needs.
Gertrude's Prayer
© Rudyard Kipling
That which is marred at birth Time shall not mend,
Nor water out of bitter well make clean;
All evil thing returneth at the end,
Or elseway walketh in our blood unseen.
Whereby the more is sorrow in certaine-
Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe.
Remarks Of Increase D. O'phace, Esquire
© James Russell Lowell
At An Extrumpery Caucus In State Street, Reported By Mr. H. Biglow
No? Hez he? He haint, though? Wut? Voted agin him?
Answer To Some Elegant Verses Sent By A Friend To The Author, Complaining That One Of His Descriptio
© George Gordon Byron
'But if any old lady, knight, priest or physician
Should condemn me for printing a second edition;
If good Madam Squintum my work should abuse,
May I venture to give her a smack of my muse?'~New Bath Guide.
Pauline, A Fragment of a Question
© Robert Browning
And I can love nothing-and this dull truth
Has come the last: but sense supplies a love
Encircling me and mingling with my life.
Fair Susan Did Her Wif-Hede Well Menteine - In Chaucer's Style
© Matthew Prior
Fair Susan did her wif-hede well menteine,
Algates assaulted sore by letchours tweine;
Now, and I read aright that auncient song,
Olde were the paramours, the dame full yong.
To Sir George Howland Beaumont, Bart From the South-West Coast Or Cumberland 1811
© William Wordsworth
FAR from our home by Grasmere's quiet Lake,
From the Vale's peace which all her fields partake,
Here on the bleakest point of Cumbria's shore
We sojourn stunned by Ocean's ceaseless roar;
Killing Him: A Radio Play
© John Wesley
LISTEN TO THE RADIO PLAY
JOE, a doctoral candidate in literature
RACHEL, his fiancée
POET/CRITIC
The Child Of The Islands - Autumn
© Caroline Norton
I.
BROWN Autumn cometh, with her liberal hand
Binding the Harvest in a thousand sheaves:
A yellow glory brightens o'er the land,
The Hackney Coachman: Or the Way to Get a Good Fare
© Erica Jong
I am a bold Coachman, and drive a good hack,
With a coat of five capes that quite covers my back;
And my wife keeps a sausage-shop, not many miles
From the narrowest alley in all Broad St Giles.
Grandmas Prayer
© Eugene Field
I pray that, risen from the dead,
I may in glory stand
A crown, perhaps, upon my head,
But a needle in my hand.
The Circus
© Kenneth Koch
Noel Lee was in Paris then but usually out of it
In Germany or Denmark giving a concert
As part of an endless activity
Which was either his career or his happiness or a combination of both
Or neither I remember his dark eyes looking he was nervous
With me perhaps because of our days at Harvard.
The Fisherman's Tomb
© Sappho
Over the fisher Pelagon Meniscus his father set
The oar worn by the wave, the trap, and the fishing net;--
For all men, and for ever, memorials there to be
Of the luckless life of the fisher, the labourer of the sea.
The Village: Book I
© George Crabbe
The village life, and every care that reigns
O'er youthful peasants and declining swains;
