Politics poems
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The Dunciad: Book III.
© Alexander Pope
But in her Temple's last recess inclos'd,
On Dulness' lap th' Anointed head repos'd.
Description Of A Lost Friend
© Caroline Norton
FROM THE MORNING POST.
LOST--near the 'Change in the city,
(I saw there a girl that seemed pretty)
'Joe Steel,' a short, cross-looking varlet,
The Little Church
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little church of Long Ago, where as a boy I sat
With mother in the family pew and fumbled with my hat-
A Second Letter From B. Sawin, Esq.
© James Russell Lowell
I spose you wonder ware I be; I can't tell, fer the soul o' me,
Exacly ware I be myself,--meanin' by thet the holl o' me.
Breitmann In Politics
© Charles Godfrey Leland
VHEN ash de var vas ober, und Beace her shnow-wice vings
Vas vafin' o'er de coondry (in shpodts) like efery dings
Und heroes vere revardtet, de beople all pegan
To say 'tvas shame dat nodings vas done for Breitemann.
To The Memory Of The Right Honourable Lord Talbot, Late Chancellor Of Great Britain. Addressed To Hi
© James Thomson
While with the public, you, my Lord, lament
A friend and father lost; permit the muse,
De Critters' Dance
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ain't nobody nevah tol' you not a wo'd a-tall,
'Bout de time dat all de critters gin dey fancy ball?
Some folks tell it in a sto'y, some folks sing de rhyme,
'Peahs to me you ought to hyeahed it, case hit 's ol' ez time.
Letter To Maria Gisborne
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
The spider spreads her webs, whether she be
In poet's tower, cellar, or barn, or tree;
The silk-worm in the dark green mulberry leaves
His winding sheet and cradle ever weaves;
The Author Upon Himself
© Jonathan Swift
By an old pursued,
A crazy prelate, and a royal prude;
By dull divines, who look with envious eyes
On ev'ry genius that attempts to rise;
On Clergymen Preaching Politics
© John Byrom
Indeed, Sir Peter, I could wish, I own,
That parsons would let politics alone;
Plead, if they will, the customary plea,
For such like talk, when o'er the dish of tea:
But when they tease us with it from the pulpit,
I own, Sir Peter, that I cannot help it.
Prologue To Faulkener
© Charles Lamb
The genius who conceived that magic tale
Was skilled by native pathos to prevail.
His stories, though rough-drawn and framed in haste,
Had that which pleased our homely grandsires' taste.
Prejudice
© Jane Taylor
It is not worth our while, but if it were,
We all could undertake to laugh at her ;
Since vulgar prejudice, the lowest kind,
Of course, has full possession of her mind ;
Here, therefore, let us leave her, and inquire
Wherein it differs as it rises higher.
Kraj Majales (King Of May)
© Allen Ginsberg
And the Communists have nothing to offer but fat cheeks and eyeglasses and
lying policemen
The Bas Bleu: Or, Conversation. Addressed To Mrs. Vesey
© Hannah More
VESEY, of Verse the judge and friend,
Awhile my idle strain attend:
Cadenus And Vanessa
© Jonathan Swift
THE shepherds and the nymphs were seen
Pleading before the Cyprian Queen.
The counsel for the fair began
Accusing the false creature, man.
Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth
© George Gordon Byron
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
A Dirge of Joy
© Henry Lawson
Oh, I dance on the Liberal Ladys grave and the Labour Womans, too;
And the grave of the Female lie and shriek, with a dance that is wild and new.
And my only regret in this song-a-let as I dance over dale and hill,
Is the Yarn-of-the-Wife and the Tale-of-the-Girl that never a war can kill.
Friendship
© William Cowper
What virtue, or what mental grace
But men unqualified and base
Will boast it their possession?
Profusion apes the noble part
Of liberality of heart,
And dulness of discretion.
