Pet poems
/ page 14 of 126 /The Parrot and the Billy-Goat
© Henry Clay Work
There were no romping children at Doctor Quibble's door;
Long past the silver wedding, no toys lay on the floor,
But to relieve her longings, to soothe her vain regrets,
His good wife had contrived to raise a family of pets.
Lamia. Part I
© John Keats
Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
Little Mouse
© William Henry Drummond
An' it 's new cariole too, is come from St.
Felix
Jo-seph 's only buyin' it week before,
An' w'en he is passin' de road wit' hees trotter
Ev'ry body was stan' on de outside door.
In Your Absence by Judith Harris: American Life in Poetry #157 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
From your school days you may remember A. E. Housman's poem that begins, âLoveliest of trees, the cherry now/ Is hung with bloom along the bough.â? Here's a look at a blossoming cherry, done 120 years later, on site among the famous cherry trees of Washington, by D.C. poet Judith Harris.
In Your Absence
Not yet summer,
but unseasonable heat
pries open the cherry tree.
A Triptych
© Arthur Symons
II. ISOTTA TO THE ROSE: RIMINI
The little country girl who plucks a rose
Goes barefoot through the sunlight to the sea,
And singing of Isotta as she goes.
Book Seventh [Residence in London]
© William Wordsworth
Returned from that excursion, soon I bade
Farewell for ever to the sheltered seats
Of gowned students, quitted hall and bower,
And every comfort of that privileged ground,
Well pleased to pitch a vagrant tent among
The unfenced regions of society.
Song
© Victor Marie Hugo
He shines through history like a sun.
For thrice five years
He bore bright victory through the dun
King-shadowed spheres;
Metamorphoses: Book The Third
© Ovid
The End of the Third Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Ilicet
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THERE is an end of joy and sorrow;
Peace all day long, all night, all morrow,
But never a time to laugh or weep.
The end is come of pleasant places,
The end of tender words and faces,
The end of all, the poppied sleep.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 14
© William Langland
"I have but oon hool hater,' quod Haukyn, "I am the lasse to blame
Though it be soiled and selde clene - I slepe therinne o nyghtes;
And also I have an houswif, hewen and children -
Uxorem duxi, et ideo non possum venire -
That wollen bymolen it many tyme, maugree my chekes.
The College Colonel
© Herman Melville
He rides at their head;
A crutch by his saddle just slants in view,
Miriam
© John Greenleaf Whittier
But over Akbar's brows the frown hung black,
And, turning to the eunuch at his back,
"Take them," he said, "and let the Jumna's waves
Hide both my shame and these accursed slaves!"
His loathly length the unsexed bondman bowed
"On my head be it!"
Strange Is The Path When You Offer Love
© Mirabai
Do not mention the name of love,
O my simple-minded companion.
Strange is the path
When you offer your love.
Your body is crushed at the first step.
Song of the Foot Track
© Elsie Cole
COME away, come away from the straightness of the road;
I will lead you into delicate recesses
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book III
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Night.
O Trivia, goddess, leave these low abodes,