Patience poems
/ page 22 of 54 /Every Day
© Ingeborg Bachmann
The medal is awarded
when nothing more happens,
when the artillery falls silent,
when the enemy has grown invisible
and the shadow of eternal armament
covers the sky.
The Practical Joker
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Oh what a fund of joy jocund lies hid in harmless hoaxes!
What keen enjoyment springs
In Plaster
© Sylvia Plath
I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
Quatrains
© Madison Julius Cawein
Above his misered embers, gnarled and gray,
With toil-twitched limbs he bends; around his hut,
Want, like a hobbling hag, goes night and day,
Scolding at windows and at doors tight-shut.
Conversation
© William Cowper
Though nature weigh our talents, and dispense
To every man his modicum of sense,
Manfred: A Dramatic Poem. Act II.
© George Gordon Byron
CHAMOIS HUNTER
No, no -- yet pause -- thou must not yet go forth:
Thy mind and body are alike unfit
To trust each other, for some hours, at least;
When thou art better, I will be thy guide--
But whither?
A Day
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Talk not of sad November, when a day
Of warm, glad sunshine fills the sky of noon,
And a wind, borrowed from some morn of June,
Stirs the brown grasses and the leafless spray.
The Renewal
© Robert Laurence Binyon
No more of sorrow, the world's old distress,
Nor war of thronging spirits numberless,
Immortal ardours in brief days confined,
No more the languid fever of mankind
The Roman: A Dramatic Poem
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
SCENE I.
A Plain in Italy-an ancient Battle-field. Time, Evening.
Persons.-Vittorio Santo, a Missionary of Freedom. He has gone out, disguised as a Monk, to preach the Unity of Italy, the Overthrow of Austrian Domination, and the Restoration of a great Roman Republic.--A number of Youths and Maidens, singing as they dance. 'The Monk' is musing.
Enter Dancers.
Mute Discourse.
© James Brunton Stephens
GOD speaks by silence. Voice-dividing man,
Who cannot triumph but he saith, Aha
The Last Pity
© Arthur Symons
Now I have seen your face,
My tears are all for you.
Where are the lonely grace,
The pride, the lovely ways I knew?
The North Sea -- Second Cycle
© Heinrich Heine
The waves are murmuring, the sea-gulls crying,
Wafts of old memories over me steal,
Old dreams long forgotten, old visions long vanished,
Sweet and torturing, rise from the deep..
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
Angkor
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
Out of the Forest into a terrible splendour
Of noon, the pinnacles of the temple--portals,
Stone Faces, immense in carven ruin
Above the trembling of giant trees emerge.
Peter Bell The Third
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter II
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
'Twas thus she comforted her soul. And then,
She had found a friend, a phoenix among men,
Which made it easier to compound with life,
Easier to be a woman and a wife.
Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Such were the words he spake; and soon the fleet
Had dared the angry deep: but Cato's voice
While praising, calmed the youthful chieftain's rage.
The Blind Heart
© Arthur Symons
Be still, O hunger of heart, and let pity speak:
Her soul is a wandering bird, and its wings are weak,
Pier heart is a little flame, it pants at a sigh:
blind and pitiless heart, it is love going by.