Travel poems
/ page 69 of 119 /The Pillar Towers of Ireland
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The pillar towers of Ireland, how wondrously they stand
By the lakes and rushing rivers through the valleys of our land;
In mystic file, through the isle, they lift their heads sublime,
These gray old pillar temples, these conquerors of time!
from Omeros
© Derek Walcott
In hill-towns, from San Fernando to Mayagüez,
the same sunrise stirred the feathered lances of cane
down the archipelago’s highways. The first breeze
Up at a VillaDown in the City
© Robert Browning
(As Distinguished by an Italian Person of Quality)
Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare,
The house for me, no doubt, were a house in the city-square;
Ah, such a life, such a life, as one leads at the window there!
Imitated From Ossian
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The stream with languid murmur creeps,
In Lumin's flowery vale:
Beneath the dew the Lily weeps
Slow-waving to the gale.
Rosalie's Good Eats Cafe
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
It's two in the mornin' on Saturday night
At Rosalie's Good Eats Café.
The Death of Antinoüs
© Mark Doty
When the beautiful young man drowned—
accidentally, swimming at dawn
in a current too swift for him,
or obedient to some cult
of total immersion that promised
the bather would come up divine,
Song of Myself
© Walt Whitman
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
The Hour Of Prayer
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Child, amidst the flowers at play,
While the red light fades away;
Hope Beyond The Grave
© James Beattie
'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more;
I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you;
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew:
The Times
© Charles Churchill
The time hath been, a boyish, blushing time,
When modesty was scarcely held a crime;
The Legends Of The Rhine
© Francis Bret Harte
Beetling walls with ivy grown,
Frowning heights of mossy stone;
Failed Tribute to the Stonemason of Tor House, Robinson Jeffers
© James Tate
We traveled down to see your house,
Tor House, Hawk Tower, in Carmel,
Agoraphobia
© Linda Pastan
"Yesterday the bird of night did sit,
Even at noon-day, upon the marketplace,
Hooting and shrieking."
—William Shakespeare
Golden Gully
© Henry Lawson
No one lives in Golden Gully, for its golden days are oer,
And its clay shall never sully blucher-boots of diggers more,
A Voice From The Bush
© Anonymous
High noon, and not a cloud in the sky
To break this blinding sun.
Well, I've half the day before me still,
And most of my journey done.
The Valley Of Fear
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
When close to that Valley your footsteps shall fare,
Turn, turn to the Roadway of Prayer-
The beautiful Roadway of Prayer.
The Landgraff
© Frances Anne Kemble
Through Thuringia's forest green
The Landgraff rode at close of e'en;
Satire IV
© John Donne
Well; I may now receive, and die. My sin
Indeed is great, but yet I have been in