Travel poems
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Reminiscence
© Padraic Colum
Recalling long ago. And she will hop
The inches of her crib, this narrow shop,
When you step in to be her customer:
A bird of little worth, a sparrow, say,
Whose crib's in such neglected passageway
That one's left wondering who brings crumbs to her.
Joys of Spring
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
The climbing sun again was wakening the world
And laughing at the wreck of frigid winter's trade.
Don Juan: Canto The Eleventh
© George Gordon Byron
When Bishop Berkeley said 'there was no matter,'
And proved it--'twas no matter what he said:
Georgic 1
© Publius Vergilius Maro
What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Sonnet XX
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
When in the widening circle of rebirth
To a new flesh my travelled soul shall come,
Bells Beyond the Forest
© Henry Kendall
Wild-eyed woodlands, here I rest me, underneath the gaunt and ghastly trees;
Underneath fantastic-fronted caverns crammed with many a muffled breeze.
The Song Of Hiawatha IV: Hiawatha And Mudjekeewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of childhood into manhood
Now had grown my Hiawatha,
Everyday Characters I - The Vicar
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Some years ago, ere time and taste
Had turned our parish topsy-turvy,
To Mr. John Rouse, Librarian of the University of Oxford. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Strophe I
My two-fold Book! single in show
The Bagman's Dog: Mr. Peters's Story
© Richard Harris Barham
It was a litter, a litter of five,
Four are drown'd and one left alive,
He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.
The Two Thieves; Or, The Last Stage Of Avarice
© William Wordsworth
O NOW that the genius of Bewick were mine,
And the skill which he learned on the banks of the Tyne.
Then the Muses might deal with me just as they chose,
For I'd take my last leave both of verse and of prose.
The Right Sort
© William Henry Ogilvie
We have hustled that litter in Heatherlie Whin,
Two crouch in the bracken, two dodge in the corn,
The Travelling Bear
© Amy Lowell
GRASS-BLADES push up between the cobblestones
And catch the sun on their flat sides
Metamorphoses: Book The Seventh
© Ovid
The End of the Seventh Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Travel Prayer
© Margaret Widdemer
ALL along the way
As through the night we go,
I see the little houses
In lighted row on row
1946-47
© Jibanananda Das
Thousands of Bengali villages, silent and powerless, sink into
hopelessness and lightlessness.
When the sun sets, a certain lovely haired darkness
Comes to fix her hair in-a bun-but by whose hands?
The Brothers
© Richard Monckton Milnes
'Tis true, that we can sometimes speak of Death,
Even of the Deaths of those we love the best,
Without dismay or terror; we can sit
In serious calm beneath deciduous trees,
The Solitary Reaper
© William Wordsworth
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
The Battle of Lexington
© Sidney Lanier
Now haste thee while the way is clear,
Paul Revere!
Haste, Dawes! but haste thee not, O Sun!
To Lexington.
