Thankful poems
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For the restoration of my dear Husband from a burning Ague, June, 1661.
© Anne Bradstreet
When feares and sorrowes me besett,
Then did'st thou rid me out;
'Possum' A Lay of New Chumland
© Henry Lawson
SO YER travlin for yer pleasure while yer writin for the press?
An yer huntin arter copy?well, Ive heerd o that. I guess
The Day Of Dead Soldiers
© Emma Lazarus
WELCOME, thou gray and fragrant Sabbath-day,
To deathless love and valor dedicate!
Glorious with the richest flowers of May,
With early roses, lingering lilacs late,
An Orchard Dance
© Norman Rowland Gale
All work is over at the farm
And men and maids are ripe for glee;
The Young British Soldier
© Rudyard Kipling
When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
Cleared
© Rudyard Kipling
Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt,
Help for an honourable clan sore trampled in the dirt!
From Queenstown Bay to Donegal, O listen to my song,
The honourable gentlemen have suffered grievous wrong.
Antonio Melidori
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
SCENE I.
[A place not far from the summit of Mount Psiloriti, in the Isle of Candia. Philota discovered with a basket of grapes upon her head; she looks eagerly upward. Time, a little before sunset.]
PHILOTA.
Three Flowers
© William Watson
I made a little song about the rose
And sang it for the rose to hear,
Nor ever marked until the music's close
A lily that was listening near.
Festina Lente
© James Russell Lowell
But vain was all their hoarsest bass,
Their old experience out of place,
And spite of croaking and entreating,
The vote was carried in marsh-meeting.
The Big Boots Of Pain
© Anne Sexton
There can be certain potions
needled in the clock
for the body's fall from grace,
to untorture and to plead for.
Which Shall It Be
© Ethel Lynn Eliot Beers
Pale, patient Robbie's angel face
Still in his sleep bore suffering's trace;
``No, for a thousand crowns, not him,''
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
A Minor Poet
© Amy Levy
"What should such fellows as I do,
Crawling between earth and heaven?"
Here is the phial; here I turn the key
Sharp in the lock. Click!--there's no doubt it turned.
The Harvest Of The Sea
© John McCrae
The earth grows white with harvest; all day long
The sickles gleam, until the darkness weaves
Her web of silence o'er the thankful song
Of reapers bringing home the golden sheaves.
Faringdon Hill. Book I
© Henry James Pye
What various objects scatter'd round us lie,
And charm on every side the curious eye!
Amidst such ample stores, how shall the Muse
Know where to turn her sight, and which to choose?
At Sea I Learned The Weather
© Harry Kemp
At sea I learned the weather,
At sea I learned to know
That waves raged not forever,
Winds did not ever blow.
Invitation To The Redbreast
© William Cowper
Sweet bird, whom the winter constrains--
And seldom another it can--
