Travel poems
/ page 17 of 119 /Bold Jack Donohue (3)
© Anonymous
Come all you gallant bushrangers who gallop o'er the plains
Refuse to live in slavery, or wear the convict chains.
Attention pay to what I say, and value if I do
For I will relate the matchless tale of bold Jack Donohue.
Book Tenth {Residence in France continued]
© William Wordsworth
IT was a beautiful and silent day
That overspread the countenance of earth,
Face Lift
© Sylvia Plath
You bring me good news from the clinic,
Whipping off your silk scarf, exhibiting the tight white
The Traveller
© Allen Tate
The afternoon with heavy hours
Lies vacant on the wanderer's sight
And sunset waits whose cloudy towers
Expect the legions of the night
Reynard The Fox - Part 2
© John Masefield
Down in the village men awoke,
The chimneys breathed with a faint blue smoke;
The fox slept on, though tweaks and twitches,
Due to his dreams, ran down his flitches.
Regarding (1) The U.S. And (2) New York
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Before I was a travelled bird,
I scoffed, in my provincial way,
At other lands; I deemed absurd
All nations but these U.S.A.
The Vaudois Teacher
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"O Lady fair, these silks of mine
are beautiful and rare,-
Sundered Paths
© Mathilde Blind
TWO travellers, worn with sun and rain
And gropings o'er dim paths unknown,
Meet where long separate ways have grown
To one, and then diverge again.
Scenes In London III - The Savoyard In Grosvenor Square
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
HE stands within the silent square,
That square of state, of gloom;
A heavy weight is on the air,
Which hangs as o'er a tomb.
The Dean Of Santiago
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The Dean of Santiago on his mule
Rode quick the Guadalquivir banks along,
Maude.
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
A BALLAD OF THE OLDEN TIME.
Around the castle turrets fiercely moaned the autumn blast,
And within the old lords daughter seemed dying, dying fast;
While oer her couch in frenzied grief the stricken father bent,
And in deep sobs and stifled moans his anguish wild found vent.
A Friends Greeting
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me;
I'd like to be the help that you've been always glad to be;
I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day
As you have meant, old friend of mine, to me along the way.
Noon On The Barrier Ranges
© Roderic Quinn
THE saltbush steeped in drowsy stillness lies,
The mulga seems to swoon,
A hawk hangs poised within the burning skies,
And it is noon.
Epilogue To Lessing's Laocooen
© Matthew Arnold
One morn as through Hyde Park we walk'd,
My friend and I, by chance we talk'd
Mostly Slavonic
© Henry Lawson
But they never dreamed, the brainless, boors that used to sneer and scoff,
That the dreamy lad beside themknown as Dutchy Mickyloff
Was a genius and a poet, and a Manno matter which
Was the Czar of all the Russias!Peter Michaelovich.
May, 1918
© John Jay Chapman
Again my eyes upon the night were turned.
The central darkness bloomed, androbed in state
While her great works about her burned
Sate France enthronèd and incoronate!
What The Traveller Said At Sunset
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The shadows grow and deepen round me,
I feel the deffall in the air;
The muezzin of the darkening thicket,
I hear the night-thrush call to prayer.