Pet poems

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The Inevitable by Allan Peterson: American Life in Poetry #159 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2

© Ted Kooser

Bad news all too often arrives with a ringing telephone, all too early in the morning. But sometimes it comes with less emphasis, by regular mail. Here Allan Peterson of Florida gets at the feelings of receiving bad news by letter, not by directly stating how he feels but by suddenly noticing the world that surrounds the moment when that news arrives.

The Inevitable

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Bonduca

© Beaumont and Fletcher

{Bonduca the British queen, taking occasion from a defeat of the Romans to impeach their valor, is rebuked by Caratac.}

Queen Bonduca, I do not grieve your fortune.

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Mogg Megone - Part II.

© John Greenleaf Whittier

"O, tell me, father, can the dead
Walk on the earth, and look on us,
And lay upon the living's head
Their blessing or their curse?
For, O, last night she stood by me,
As I lay beneath the woodland tree!"

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Menuet

© François Coppée

Marquise, vous souvenez-vous
Du menuet que nous dansâmes ?
Il était discret, noble et doux
Comme l'accord de nos deux âmes.

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In the Height of Fashion

© Henry Lawson

SO at last a toll they’ll levy

  For the passing fool who sings—

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To The Napoleon Column

© Victor Marie Hugo

When with gigantic hand he placed,
For throne on vassal Europe based.
  That column's lofty height,
Pillar, in whose dread majesty,
In double immortality,
  Glory and bronze unite!

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Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 02 - Rainy Season

© Kalidasa

"Oh, dear, now the kingly monsoon is onset with its clouds containing raindrops, as its ruttish elephants in its convoy, and with skyey flashes of lighting as its pennants and buntings, and with the thunders of thunderbolts as its percussive drumbeats, thus this rainy season has come to pass, radiately shining forth like a king, for the delight of voluptuous people…

"By far, the vault of heaven is overly impregnated with massive clouds, that are similar to the gleam of blackish petals of black-costuses… somewhere they are similar to the glitter of the heaps of well-kneaded blackish mascara… and elsewhere they glisten like the blackened nipples of bosoms of pregnant women, ready to rain the elixir of life on the lips of her offspring, when that offspring is actualised…

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Spring

© Andrew Lang

Ye gardens, cast your leafy crown,
That my Love's feet may tread it down,
  Like lilies on the lilies set:
My Love, whose lips are softer far
Than drowsy poppy petals are,
  And sweeter than the violet!

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The March of Ivan

© Henry Lawson

“I have marched to many frontiers, in the pregnant days gone by,
When they told us where to march to, but they did not tell us why.
And they showed us whom to fight with, and they told us where to die.
I have seen our grey battalions to their Heaven—or Hades—hurled—
’Twas enough it was for Russia!—what cared we about the world?

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Sweet Florida

© Annie McCarer Darlington

Beautiful Florida! land of the flowers,
Home of the mocking bird, saucy and bold,
Sweet are the roses that perfume thy bowers,
And brilliant thy sunshine like burnished gold.

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The Perils of Invisibility

© William Schwenck Gilbert

Old PETER led a wretched life -
Old PETER had a furious wife;
Old PETER too was truly stout,
He measured several yards about.

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A Woman's Farewell.

© Arthur Henry Adams

SO with this farewell kiss I taste at last
The all of life; the Future and the Past
Upon your dear lips dwell.
Love will not come again, though I implore;

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Ballad of Reading Gaol - I

© Oscar Wilde

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

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English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire

© George Gordon Byron

These are the themes that claim our plaudits now;
These are the bards to whom the muse must bow;
While Milton, Dryden, Pope, alike forgot,
Resign their hallow'd bays to Walter Scott.

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I Saw Children Playing

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

No! they still are playing, chatting in a ring,
Eager voices seeking other games to know.
Lone I go protesting—hear them laugh and sing,
Feeling not my absence, heeding not my woe.

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Dead- A Prisoner

© Katharine Tynan

He died the loneliest death of all,
  Amid his foes he died.
But Someone's leaped the outer wall
  And Someone's come inside,
And he has gotten a golden key
To set the lonesome prisoner free.

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The Bottle And The Bird

© Eugene Field

Once on a time a friend of mine prevailed on me to go
  To see the dazzling splendors of a sinful ballet show,
  And after we had reveled in the saltatory sights
  We sought a neighboring cafe for more tangible delights;
  When I demanded of my friend what viands he preferred,
  He quoth: "A large cold bottle and a small hot bird!"

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Dedication

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

THE SEA gives her shells to the shingle,

  The earth gives her streams to the sea;

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Dornenlieder

© Charles Godfrey Leland

I.
FOR efery Rose dot ploome in spring,
Dey say an maid is porn;
For efery pain dot Rose vill make

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L' Allee

© Paul Verlaine

Powdered and rouged as in the sheepcotes' day,

Fragile 'mid her enormous ribbon bows,