Travel poems

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The Hearts

© Robert Pinsky

The legendary muscle that wants and grieves,
The organ of attachment, the pump of thrills
And troubles, clinging in stubborn colonies

Roses And Sunshine

© Edgar Albert Guest

Rough is the road I am journeying now,

Heavy the burden I'm bearing to-day;

The Hunter And His Dying Steed

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Wo worth the chase. Wo worth the day,

That cost thy life, my gallant grey!Scott

To M.L. Lozinsky

© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

I feel the undefeated fear,
In presence of the misty heights;
I'm glad that swallows fly here
And I enjoy the belfry's flight!

On The Mountain

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

THE top of the world and an empty morning,
Mist sweeping in from the dim Outside,
The door of day just a little bit open--
The wind's great laugh as he flings it wide!

Michael: A Pastoral Poem

© William Wordsworth

Thus in his Father's sight the Boy grew up:
And now, when he had reached his eighteenth year,
He was his comfort and his daily hope.

Elegiac Stanzas In Memory Of My Brother, John Commander Of The E. I. Companys Ship The Earl Of Aber

© William Wordsworth

I
THE Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo!
That instant, startled by the shock,
The Buzzard mounted from the rock

The Lilies Of The Field

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Flowers! when the Saviour's calm benignant eye

Fell on your gentle beauty; when from you

The Cry Of A Lost Soul

© John Greenleaf Whittier

In that black forest, where, when day is done,
With a snake's stillness glides the Amazon
Darkly from sunset to the rising sun,

Monday In Whitsun-Week

© John Keble

Since all that is not Heaven must fade,
Light be the hand of Ruin laid
Upon the home I love:
With lulling spell let soft Decay
Steal on, and spare the giant sway,
The crash of tower and grove.

From the Plane by Anne Marie Macari : American Life in Poetry #211 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 20

Some of you are so accustomed to flying that you no longer sit by the windows. But I'd guess that at one time you gazed down, after dark, and looked at the lights below you with innocent wonder. This poem by Anne Marie Macari of New Jersey perfectly captures the gauziness of those lights as well as the loneliness that often accompanies travel.

From the Plane

The More a Man Has the More a Man Wants

© Paul Muldoon

At four in the morning he wakes

to the yawn of brakes,

The Rover

© Virna Sheard

Though I follow a trail to north or south,
Though I travel east or west,
There's a little house on a quiet road
That my hidden heart loves best;
And when my journeys are over and done,
'Tis there I will go to rest.

Songs Of The Grass

I
On The Dunes
HERE all night on the dunes
In the rocking wind we sleep;

Sonnet 109: "O! never say that I was false of heart,..."

O! never say that I was false of heart,

Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify,

Ode To Sara, In Answer To A Letter From Bristol

Nor travels my meand'ring eye
The starry wilderness on high;
Nor now with curious sight
I mark the glow-worm as I pass,
Move with 'green radiance' thro' the grass,
An emerald of light.