Patience poems
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Sonnet Of Motherhood XXXI
© Zora Bernice May Cross
You are your mother, Dear, as I am mine.
And, as we slumber to our souls caress,
Those two who panged for us and weeping smiled,
Draw near and bind us in a peace divine.
O mother me; all else is comfortless
As painted lips above a dying child.
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
Never in tenderer quiet lapsed the day
From Pennsylvania's vales of spring away,
Where, forest-walled, the scattered hamlets lay
The Spellin'-Bee
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I NEVER shall furgit that night when father hitched up Dobbin,
An' all us youngsters clambered in an' down the road went bobbin'
Can't
© Edgar Albert Guest
Can't is the worst word that's written or spoken;
Doing more harm here than slander and lies;
Ode--'On A Distant Prospect' Of Making A Fortune
© Charles Stuart Calverley
Now the "rosy morn appearing"
Floods with light the dazzled heaven;
And the schoolboy groans on hearing
That eternal clock strike seven:-
Guilt And Sorrow, Or, Incidents Upon Salisbury Plain
© William Wordsworth
I
A TRAVELLER on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain
Davids Lament For Jonathan
© Mary Hannay Foott
All night thy body on the mountain lay:
At morn the heathen nailed thee to their wall.
Surely their deaf gods hear the songs to-day
Oer the slain House of Saul!
Little Ditties I
© William Brighty Rands
Winifred Waters sat and sighed
Under a weeping willow;
When she went to bed she cried,
Wetting all the pillow;
The Task: Book IV. -- The Winter Evening
© William Cowper
Hark! tis the twanging horn oer yonder bridge,
That with its wearisome but needful length
Wingless Victory
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Worms feed upon the bodies of the brave
Who bled for us: but we bewildered see
Viler worms gnaw the things they died to save.
Old clouds of doubt and weariness oppress.
Happy the dead, we cry, not now to be
In the day of this dissolving littleness!
Olney Hymn 56: Hatred Of Sin
© William Cowper
Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth,
Nor dare Thy least commandment slight;
Yet pierced by sin the serpent's tooth,
I mourn the anguish of the bite.
Love Increased By Suffering
© William Cowper
"I love the Lord," is still the strain
This heart delights to sing:
But I reply--your thoughts are vain,
Perhaps 'tis no such thing.
Obituary
© Allen Tate
... so what the lame four-poster gathered here
Between the lips of stale and seasoned sheets
Startles a memory sunlit upon the wall
(Motors and urchins contest the city streets)
Cromwell
© Albert Durrant Watson
This too remember well
I learned it late: None but a tyrant makes
That good prevail that is not in men's hearts,
And tyranny is questionable good.
Therefore must all men learn by liberty,
And with what pain their doings on them bring.
Riddles By Dr. Swift And His Friends
© Jonathan Swift
FROM Venus born, thy beauty shows;
But who thy father, no man knows:
Nor can the skilful herald trace
The founder of thy ancient race;
Echoes from the Sabine Farm
© Eugene Field
WHAT end the gods may have ordained for me,
And what for thee,
Seek not to learn, Leuconöe,we may not know.
Chaldean tables cannot bring us rest.
T is for the best
To bear in patience what may come, or weal or woe.
A Panegyric Of The Dean In The Person Of A Lady In The North
© Jonathan Swift
Resolved my gratitude to show,
Thrice reverend Dean, for all I owe,
Too long I have my thanks delay'd;
Your favours left too long unpaid;
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - November
© George MacDonald
1.
THOU art of this world, Christ. Thou know'st it all;
Good Friday
© John Keble
Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawned on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power
For comfort than an angel's mirth?
That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn
Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn?
