Wish poems
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The Young British Soldier
© Rudyard Kipling
When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
The Wishing-Caps
© Rudyard Kipling
Life's all getting and giving,
I've only myself to give.
What shall I do for a living?
I've only one life to live.
Song of the Red War-Boat
© Rudyard Kipling
For we hold that in all disaster
Of shipwreck, storm, or sword,
A Man must stand by his Master
When once he has pledged his word.
An Hour With Thee
© Sir Walter Scott
An hour with thee! When earliest day
Dapples with gold the eastern gray,
Nathan The Wise - Act IV
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
SCENE.--The Cloister of a Convent.
The FRIAR alone.
Road-Song of the Bandar-Log
© Rudyard Kipling
Then join our leaping lines that scumfish through the pines,
That rocket by where, light and high, the wild-grape swings,
By the rubbish in our wake, and the noble noise we make,
Be sure, be sure, we're going to do some splendid things!
The Cellar Door
© John Clare
By the old tavern door on the causey there lay
A hogshead of stingo just rolled from a dray,
The Traveller And The Farm-Maiden
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
HE.
CANST thou give, oh fair and matchless maiden,
Metamorphoses: Book The Fourth
© Ovid
The End of the Fourth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
The Ladies
© Rudyard Kipling
I've taken my fun where I've found it;
I've rouged an' I've ranged in my time;
I've 'ad my pickin' o' seethearts,
An' four o' the lot was prime.
The Gods of the Copybook Headings
© Rudyard Kipling
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
Make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place.
'eering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
Myra
© Fulke Greville
I, with whose colours Myra dress'd her head,
I, that ware posies of her own hand-making,
I, that mine own name in the chimneys read
By Myra finely wrought ere I was waking:
Must I look on, in hope time coming may
With change bring back my turn again to play?
Divided Destinies
© Rudyard Kipling
It was an artless Bandar, and he danced upon a pine,
And much I wondered how he lived, and where the beast might dine,
And many, many other things, till, o'er my morning smoke,
I slept the sleep of idleness and dreamt that Bandar spoke.
A Death-Bed
© Rudyard Kipling
1918
This is the State above the Law.
The State exists for the State alone."
[This is a gland at the back of the jaw,
And an answering lump by the collar-bone.],
The Eagle, The Sow, And The Cat
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Curs'd Sycophants! How wretched is the Fate
Of those, who know you not, till 'tis too late!
The Letter L
© Jean Ingelow
We sat on grassy slopes that meet
With sudden dip the level strand;
The trees hung overhead—our feet
Were on the sand.
Imitated From The Welsh
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
If, while my passion I impart,
You deem my words untrue,
O place your hand upon my heart,
Feel how it throbs for you!
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 03
© Torquato Tasso
XXXIII
Thus passed she, praised, wished, and wondered at,
The Ballad of the "Bolivar"
© Rudyard Kipling
Seven men from all the world, back to Docks again,
Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:
Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away --
We that took the Bolivar out across the Bay!
