Travel poems
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Meth Below The Tree
© William Barnes
O when theäse elems' crooked boughs,
A'most too thin to sheäde the cows,
The Building Of The Temple
© Sir Henry Newbolt
O Lord our God, we are strangers before Thee, and sojourners, as were
all our fathers: our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is
none abiding.
The Sailor's Mother
© William Wordsworth
. ONE morning (raw it was and wet--
A foggy day in winter time)
A Woman on the road I met,
Not old, though something past her prime:
Majestic in her person, tall and straight;
And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait.
Patience
© Edith Wharton
PATIENCE and I have traveled hand in hand
So many days that I have grown to trace
The lines of sad, sweet beauty in her face,
And all its veiled depths to understand.
Not Worth the toil!
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
NOT all the sum of earthly happiness
Is worth the bowed head of a moment's pain,
And if I sell for wine my dervish dress,
Worth more than what I sell is what I gain!
How Much Fortunatus Could Do With A Cap
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
And The Moral is easily said:
Like our hero, you're certain to find,
When such a cap goes on a head,
Retribution will follow behind!
Ode to Rae Wilson Esq.
© Thomas Hood
Mere verbiage,it is not worth a carrot!
Why, Socratesor Platowhere's the odds?
Once taught a jay to supplicate the Gods,
And made a Polly-theist of a Parrot!
A Welcome From The "Johnson Club"
© Henry Austin Dobson
When Pope came back from Trojan wars once more,
He found a Bard, to meet him on the shore,
And hail his advent with a strain as clear
As e'er was sung by BYRON or by FRERE.
The Crane
© Hovhannes Toumanian
The Crane has lost his way across the heaven,
From yonder stormy cloud I hear him cry,
A traveller a'er an unknown pathway driven,
In a cold world unheeded he doth fly.
I Think Continually
© Stephen Spender
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
The Sleep of Sigismund
© Jean Ingelow
The doom'd king pacing all night through the windy fallow.
'Let me alone, mine enemy, let me alone,'
Never a Christian bell that dire thick gloom to hallow,
Or guide him, shelterless, succourless, thrust from his own.
Serenade
© Kenneth Slessor
THOU moon, like a white Christus hanging
At the sky's cross-roads, I'll court thee not,
Though travellers bend up, and seek thy grace.
Let them go truckle with their gifts and singing,
My Interview
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
The wall has grown all black, upto the circling roof.
Roads are empty, travellers all gone. Once again
My night begins to converse with its loneliness;
My visitor I feel has come once again.
Henna stains one palm, blood wets another;
One eye poisons, the other cures.
Roosevelt
© John Jay Chapman
[Lines read at the Harvard Club, New York, on February 9, 1919]
LIFE seems belittled when a great man dies;
White Nassau
© Bliss William Carman
She's ringed with surf and coral, she's crowned with sun and palm;
She has the old-world leisure, the regal tropic calm;
The trade winds fan her forehead; in everlasting June
She reigns from deep verandas above her blue lagoon.
The Fate of the Explorers (A Fragment)
© Henry Kendall
Through that night he uttered little, rambling were the words he spoke:
And he turned and died in silence, when the tardy morning broke.
Many memories come together whilst in sight of death we dwell,
Much of sweet and sad reflection through the weary mind must well.
As those long hours glided past him, till the east with light was fraught,
Who may know the mournful secret who can tell us what he thought?
