Travel poems
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Balloons
© Sylvia Plath
Since Christmas they have lived with us,
Guileless and clear,
Oval soul-animals,
Taking up half the space,
Moving and rubbing on the silk
Hang the Man Who Works
© Anonymous
Come listen to my ditty, come listen to me hum,
While I relate a verse or two of the professional bum
Who travels the north, likewise the south, likewise the east and west,
Humming his chuck wherever he goes, and hanging the man who works.
De Habitant
© Aristotle
De place I get born, me, is up on de reever
Near foot of de rapide dat's call Cheval Blanc
Beeg mountain behin' it, so high you can't climb it
An' whole place she's mebbe two honder arpent.
A Dream -- English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
In the temple of Mahakal
The evening prayer bell rang
The crowded roads were now empty
The dusk was falling
And the rooftops were glowing
With the rays of setting sun.
The Sinner and The Spider
© John Bunyan
Not filthy as thyself in name or feature.
My name entailed is to my creation,
My features from the God of thy salvation.
The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
© Thomas Hood
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,and with a broader sphere
Hyperion. Book II
© John Keats
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
Sweet Echo Dell
© Henry Clay Work
"Three there were that left my cot;
Two are here, and one is not;
Why does Willie linger? Say, can you tell?"
The Wanderers Return
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
An old heart's mourning is a hideous thing,
And weeds upon an aged weeper cling
Like night upon a grave. The city there,
Gaunt as a woman who has once been fair,
The Light of the Sun
© Kabir
THE light of the sun, the moon, and the stars shines bright:
The melody of love swells forth, and the rhythm of love's detachment beats the time.
Day and night, the chorus of music fills the heavens; and Kabîr says
"My Beloved One gleams like the lightning flash in the sky."
English Eclogues V - The Witch
© Robert Southey
FATHER.
'Tis rare good luck;
I would have gladly given a crown for one
If t'would have done as well. But where did'st find it?
The Nightingale
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
WHEN twilight's grey and pensive hour
Brings the low breeze, and shuts the flower,
And bids the solitary star
Shine in pale beauty from afar;
To A Departing Favorite
© George Moses Horton
Thou mayst retire, but think of me
When thou art gone afar,
Where'er in life thy travels be,
If tost along the brackish sea,
Or borne upon the car.
The Baby's Feet
© Edgar Albert Guest
Pinker than the roses that enrich a summer's day,
Splashing in the bath tub or just kicking them in play,
Nothing in the skies above or earth below as sweet,
As fascinating to me as a baby's little feet.
To The Prophetic Soul
© Archibald Lampman
What are these bustlers at the gate
Of now or yesterday,
These playthings in the hand of Fate,
That pass, and point no way;
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
