Respect poems

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Daphne to Apollo. Imitated From The First Book Of Ovid's Metamorphosis

© Matthew Prior

Daphne aside]
This care is for himself as pure as death;
One mile has put the fellow out of breath:
He'll never go, I'll lead him th' other round;
Washy he is, perhaps not over sound.

He wanted clothes, a masher suit, he wanted boots and hat;
His girl had earned a quid or twohe wouldnt part with that;
And so he went to Brickfield Hill, and from a draper there
He shook the proper kind of togs to fetch a square affair.

The Legend Of The Horseshoe.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

WHAT time our Lord still walk'd the earth,
Unknown, despised, of humble birth,
And on Him many a youth attended
(His words they seldom comprehended),

The Chimney-Sweeper's Song

© William Strode

Then up I rush with my pole and brush,
I scowre the chimney's Jacket,
I make it shine as bright as mine,
When I have rub'd and rak'd it.

Cameron's Heart

© Henry Lawson

The diggings were just in their glory when Alister Cameron came,
With recommendations, he told me, from friends and a parson `at hame';
He read me his recommendations -- he called them a part of his plant --
The first one was signed by an Elder, the other by Cameron's aunt.
The meenister called him `ungodly -- a stray frae the fauld o' the Lord',
And his aunt set him down as a spendthrift, `a rebel at hame and abroad'.

The League of Nations

© Henry Lawson

Light on the towns and cities, and peace for evermore!
The Big Five met in the world's light as many had met before,
And the future of man is settled and there shall be no more war.

The Old Jimmy Woodser

© Henry Lawson

The old Jimmy Woodser comes into the bar
Unwelcomed, unnoticed, unknown,
Too old and too odd to be drunk with, by far;
So he glides to the end where the lunch baskets are
And they say that he tipples alone.

Too Dearly Had I Bought

© Henry Howard

Too dearly had I bought my green and youthful years,

If in mine age I could not find when craft for love appears;

Fear Not God Or Love

© Faye Diane Kilday

God is love and love is notsomething you should fear.
Respect love? Yes! Honour love? Yes! Embrace love? Yes! But fear love? No!
For when you fear love youfear life. And when you fear life whatdo you have but death.Death of all that is good and pureand wonderful in the world...In the universe.
So fear not God or love.For God is love and love is ALL.© Faye Kilday 2005

Sonnet XXVII: Is Not Love Here

© Michael Drayton

Is not Love here as 'tis in other climes,
And differeth it, as do the several nations?
Or hath it lost the virtue with the times,
Or in this island altereth with the fashions?

If I weep

© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears.
Every cruelty which he commits becomes him, every cruelty which he commits I endure.
If he accounts me nonexistent, I account his tyranny generosity.
The cure of the ache of my heart is the ache for him; how shall I not surrender my heart to his ache?

Upon The Hill And Grove At Bill-borow

© Andrew Marvell

To the Lord Fairfax.See how the arched Earth does here
Rise in a perfect Hemisphere!
The stiffest Compass could not strike
A line more circular and like;

Last Instructions to a Painter

© Andrew Marvell

Here, Painter, rest a little, and survey
With what small arts the public game they play.
For so too Rubens, with affairs of state,
His labouring pencil oft would recreate.

Upon Appleton House, to My Lord Fairfax

© Andrew Marvell

Within this sober Frame expect
Work of no Forrain Architect;
That unto Caves the Quarries drew,
And Forrests did to Pastures hew;

A Blue Valentine

© Joyce Kilmer

(For Aline)Monsignore,
Right Reverend Bishop Valentinus,
Sometime of Interamna, which is called Ferni,
Now of the delightful Court of Heaven,

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam 1 - 250 (Whinfield Translation)

© Omar Khayyám

At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled,
"Arise, my brethren of the revelers' guild,
That I may fill our measure full of wine,
Or e'er the measure of our days be filled."

The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto XII.

III The Churl
This marks the Churl: when spousals crown
His selfish hope, he finds the grace,
Which sweet love has for even the clown,
Was not in the woman, but the chace.