Travel poems
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Sonnet CIX
© William Shakespeare
O, never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify.
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:
The One Grief
© Edith Wharton
ONE grief there is, the helpmeet of my heart,
That shall not from me till my days be sped,
Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now
© William Shakespeare
Against my love shall be, as I am now,
With Time's injurious hand crushed and o'erworn;
When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow
With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
Sonnet 50: How heavy do I journey on the way
© William Shakespeare
How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek, my weary travel's end,
Doth teach that case and that repose to say,
"Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!"
The Destiny Of Nations. A Vision.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song,
Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured
To the Great Father, only Rightful King,
Eternal Father! King Omnipotent!
To the Will Absolute, the One, the Good!
The I AM, the Word, the Life, the Living God!
Sonnet 34: Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day
© William Shakespeare
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
Sonnet 27: Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed
© William Shakespeare
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose for limbs with travel tirèd;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body's work's expirèd.
The Vain Question
© Ada Cambridge
Why should we court the storms that rave and rend,
Safe at our household hearth?
Why, starved and naked, without home or friend,
Unknowing whence we came or where we wend,
Follow from no beginning to no end
An uncrowned martyr's path?
A Miller, His Son, And Their Ass
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
THO' to Antiquity the Praise we yield
Of pleasing Arts; and Fable's earli'st Field
Own to be fruitful Greece; yet not so clean
Those Ears were reap'd, but still there's some to glean;
And from the Lands of vast Invention come
Daily new Authors, with Discov'ries home.
The Vanity of Human Wishes (excerpts)
© Samuel Johnson
45 Yet still one gen'ral cry the skies assails,
46 And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
47 Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care,
48 Th' insidious rival and the gaping heir.
Sordello: Book the Third
© Robert Browning
Whereat he rose.
The level wind carried above the firs
Clouds, the irrevocable travellers,
Onward.
Paradise Lost : Book II.
© John Milton
High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind,
A Frog's Fate
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Contemptuous of his home beyond
The village and the village-pond,
A large-souled Frog who spurned each byway
Hopped along the imperial highway.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
TO ONE IN A HIGH POSITION
To you, a poet, glorious, heaven--born,
One who is not a poet but a son
Of the earth earthy, sick and travel--worn
the ordinary again
© Rg Gregory
you are not interested in me
a receiver of food and a giver of shit
my brain knuckled under
Names Of The River
© Tadeusz Borowski
It's strange, like a dream, but somehow alive and painful
to walk in evening lanes, looking at lights and shadows
as at a traveling show, to be the wind and the branch
pressed against the sky, to pass in shapes, and flow
as on a river's tide, and each shape is a wave
rising alone and alone silently falling. . .
Experience
© Jane Taylor
--A COSTLY good ; that none e'er bought or sold
For gem, or pearl, or miser's store, twice told :
Save certain watery pearls, possessed by all,
Which, one by one, may buy it as they fall.
Of these, though precious, few will not suffice,
So slow the traffic, and so large the price !
crematorium-return
© Rg Gregory
i)
ok the pair of you lie still
what's disturbing me need pass
no fretful hand over your peace
this world's vicissitudes are stale
fodder for you who feed the grass
The Grave
© Robert Blair
While some affect the sun, and some the shade,
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying through life;the task be mine,
Morning Land
© George Essex Evans
Around and beneath, the dull grey mist and the sullen roar of the sea,
Scant footing-place on the sheer cliffs facewith death for a penalty;
But afar and above there is rest and love, there is hope for brain and hand,
The valleys fair and the crystal air and the peaks of Morning Land.
