Pet poems
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Gitanjali
© Rabindranath Tagore
1.
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
Saint Peter
© George MacDonald
O Peter, wherefore didst thou doubt?
Indeed the spray flew fast about,
Queen-Anne's-Lace
© William Carlos Williams
Her body is not so white as
anemone petals nor so smooth-nor
The Lonely Woman
© Mabel Forrest
WHERE the ironbarks are hanging leaves disconsolate and pale,
Where the wild vines oer the ranges their spilt cream of blossom trail,
Olney Hymn 62: Dependence
© William Cowper
To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
'Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.
Bayonet Song
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
For till you show me the Sacred Word
I'm for Peter and his good sword,
Only I hope if we'd drilled him here
He'd not have missed the head for the ear.
Master And Servant
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The devil to Bacchus said, one day,
In a scowling, growling, petulant way,
The Phantom of the Rose
© Théophile Gautier
Sweet lady, let your lids unclose.--
Those lids by maiden dreams caressed;
I am the phantom of the rose
You wore last night upon your breast.
To A Lady Who Spoke Slightingly Of Poets
© Washington Allston
Oh, censure not the Poet's art,
Nor think it chills the feeling heart
To love the gentle Muses.
Can that which in a stone or flower,
As if by transmigrating power,
His gen'rous soul infuses;
Committee Meetings
© Edgar Albert Guest
For this and that and various things
It seems that men must get together,
Ode to Rae Wilson Esq.
© Thomas Hood
Mere verbiage,it is not worth a carrot!
Why, Socratesor Platowhere's the odds?
Once taught a jay to supplicate the Gods,
And made a Polly-theist of a Parrot!
The Princess (part 6)
© Alfred Tennyson
My dream had never died or lived again.
As in some mystic middle state I lay;
Seeing I saw not, hearing not I heard:
Though, if I saw not, yet they told me all
So often that I speak as having seen.
De Snowbird
© William Henry Drummond
O leetle bird dat's come to us w'en stormy win' she's blowin',
An' ev'ry fiel' an' mountain top is cover wit' de snow,
How far from home you're flyin', noboddy's never knowin'
For spen' wit' us de winter tam, mon cher petit oiseau!
On The Lord's Prayer
© Charles Lamb
I have taught your young lips the good words to say over,
Which form the petition we call the Lord's Prayer,
And now let me help my dear child to discover
The meaning of all the good words that are there.
Jack Roy
© Herman Melville
Kept up by relays of generations young
Never dies at halyards the blithe chorus sung;
The Brus Book XI
© John Barbour
[Criticism of the compact about Stirling Castle]
And quhen this connand thus wes mad
The Two Children Pt 1
© Emily Jane Brontë
Heavy hangs the rain-drop
From the burdened spray;
Heavy broods the damp mist
On uplands far away.
The Cypress-Tree Of Ceylon
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THEY sat in silent watchfulness
The sacred cypress-tree about,
And, from beneath old wrinkled brows,
Their failing eyes looked out.
To A Lady That Desired Me I Would Beare My Part With Her In
© Richard Lovelace
This is the prittiest motion:
Madam, th' alarums of a drumme
That cals your lord, set to your cries,
To mine are sacred symphonies.
