Travel poems
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To A Derelict
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O travelled far beyond unhappiness
Into a dreadful peace!
Why tarriest thou here? The street is bright
With noon; the music of the tidal sound
The Silence
© Emile Verhaeren
Ever since ending of the summer weather.
When last the thunder and the lightning broke,
Shatt'ring themselves upon it at one stroke,
The Silence has not stirred, there in the heather.
The Death of the Hired Man
© Robert Frost
Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table
Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,
She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage
To meet him in the doorway with the news
Health
© Edward Thomas
Four miles at a leap, over the dark hollow land,
To the frosted steep of the down and its junipers black,
Travels my eye with equal ease and delight:
And scarce could my body leap four yards.
Testament
© Wendell Berry
2.
But do not let your ignorance
Of my spirit's whereabouts dismay
You, or overwhelm your thoughts.
Be careful not to say
A Dramatic Poem
© William Butler Yeats
Second Sailor. And I had thought to make
A good round Sum upon this cruise, and turn -
For I am getting on in life - to something
That has less ups and downs than robbery.
The Wide Outdoors
© Edgar Albert Guest
The rich may pay for orchids rare, but, Oh the apple tree
Flings out its blossoms to the world for every eye to see,
And all who sigh for loveliness may walk beneath the sky
And claim a richer beauty than man's gold can ever buy.
When sorrow lays us low
© Jorge Luis Borges
Eight million Shinto deities
travel secretly throughout the earth.
Those modest gods touch us--
touch us and move on.
Twenty-Fifth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
The bright-haired morn is glowing
O'er emerald meadows gay,
Prometheus Unbound
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
First Voice.
But never bowed our snowy crest
As at the voice of thine unrest.
The Hearth Eternal
© Vachel Lindsay
There dwelt a widow learned and devout,
Behind our hamlet on the eastern hill.
Three sons she had, who went to find the world.
They promised to return, but wandered still.
The Illinois Village
© Vachel Lindsay
O you who lose the art of hope,
Whose temples seem to shrine a lie,
Whose sidewalks are but stones of fear,
Who weep that Liberty must die,
The Traveller-Heart
© Vachel Lindsay
I would be one with the dark, dark earth:--
Follow the plough with a yokel tread.
I would be part of the Indian corn,
Walking the rows with the plumes o'erhead.
The Wedding Sermon
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
"Now, while she's changing," said the Dean,
"Her bridal for her traveling dress,
The Crisis
© John Greenleaf Whittier
ACROSS the Stony Mountains, o'er the desert's drouth and sand,
The circles of our empire touch the western ocean's strand;
From slumberous Timpanogos, to Gila, wild and free,
Flowing down from Nuevo-Leon to California's sea;
Along The Way English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
As I walk along my way
I receive your touch
