Travel poems
/ page 26 of 119 /
The Painter
© Edgar Albert Guest
When my hair is thin and silvered, an' my time of toil is through,
When I've many years behind me, an' ahead of me a few,
I shall want to sit, I reckon, sort of dreamin' in the sun,
An' recall the roads I've traveled an' the many things I've done,
An' I hope there'll be no picture that I'll hate to look upon
When the time to paint it better or to wipe it out is gone.
The Prince's Progress
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Till all sweet gums and juices flow,
Till the blossom of blossoms blow,
The long hours go and come and go,
The bride she sleepeth, waketh, sleepeth,
Waiting for one whose coming is slow:
Hark! the bride weepeth.
A Mountain Gateway
© Bliss William Carman
I know a vale where I would go one day,
When June comes back and all the world once more
Is glad with summer. Deep in shade it lies
A mighty cleft between the bosoming hills,
A cool dim gateway to the mountains' heart.
There is a life-force within your soul
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
There is a life-force within your soul, seek that life.
There is a gem in the mountain of your body, seek that
mine.
O traveler, if you are in search of That
Don't look outside, look inside yourself and seek That.
The Lonely Old Fellow
© Edgar Albert Guest
The roses are bedded for winter, the tulips are planted for spring;
The robins and martins have left us; there are only the sparrows to sing.
Idyll XV. The Festival of Adonis
© Theocritus
PRAXINOAe.
Yes, Gorgo dear! At last!
That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair,
A cushion, Eunoae!
Juvenilia, An OdeTo Natural Beauty
© Alan Seeger
There is a power whose inspiration fills
Nature's fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought,
The Spirit Of The Age
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
A wondrous light is filling the air,
And rimming the clouds of the old despair;
"A Noted Traveler"
© James Whitcomb Riley
Even in such a scene of senseless play
The children were surprised one summer-day
The Ring And The Book - Chapter V - Count Guido Franceschini
© Robert Browning
That is a way, thou whisperest in my ear!
I doubt, I will decide, then act, said I
Then beckoned my companions: Time is come!
Shrine Of The Virgin - Part I
© John Kenyon
"The traveller, who hears that vesper-bell,
Howe'er employed, must send a prayer to heaven
The Hero -- English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
Just suppose for once -
I was travelling with my mother
The Shepherds Calendar - March
© John Clare
March month of 'many weathers' wildly comes
In hail and snow and rain and threatning hums
And floods: while often at his cottage door
The shepherd stands to hear the distant roar
Beneath The Snow
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Twas near the close of the dying year,
And Decembers winds blew cold and drear,
Driving the snow and sharp blinding sleet
In gusty whirls through square and street,
Shrieking more wildly and fiercely still
In the dreary grave-yard that crowns the hill.
Book Eighth: Retrospect--Love Of Nature Leading To Love Of Man
© William Wordsworth
WHAT sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are heard
Up to thy summit, through the depth of air
The Stewed Samaritan
© George Ade
Within a house of public entertainment
There sat an ebon slave close at the foot
Possum Trot
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I 've journeyed 'roun' consid'able, a-seein' men an' things,
An' I 've learned a little of the sense that meetin' people brings;
But in spite of all my travelling an' of all I think I know,
I 've got one notion in my head, that I can't git to go;
An' it is that the folks I meet in any other spot
Ain't half so good as them I knowed back home in Possum Trot.
