Women poems
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The Last Suttee
© Rudyard Kipling
Udai Chand lay sick to death
In his hold by Gungra hill.
All night we heard the death-gongs ring
For the soul of the dying Rajpoot King,
All night beat up from the women's wing
A cry that we could not still.
When Friends Drop In
© Edgar Albert Guest
It may be I'm old-fashioned, but the times I like the best
Are not the splendid parties with the women gaily dressed,
And the music tuned for dancing and the laughter of the throng,
With a paid comedian's antics or a hired musician's song,
But the quiet times of friendship, with the chuckles and the grin,
And the circle at the fireside when a few good friends drop in.
The Roman: A Dramatic Poem
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
SCENE I.
A Plain in Italy-an ancient Battle-field. Time, Evening.
Persons.-Vittorio Santo, a Missionary of Freedom. He has gone out, disguised as a Monk, to preach the Unity of Italy, the Overthrow of Austrian Domination, and the Restoration of a great Roman Republic.--A number of Youths and Maidens, singing as they dance. 'The Monk' is musing.
Enter Dancers.
The Zenana
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
And fragrant though the flowers are breathing,
From far and near together wreathing,
They are not those she used to wear,
Upon the midnight of her hair.
Hudibras: Part 2 - Canto II
© Samuel Butler
Quoth RALPHO, Honour's but a word
To swear by only in a Lord:
In other men 'tis but a huff,
To vapour with instead of proof;
That, like a wen, looks big and swells,
Is senseless, and just nothing else.
Lord Nevil's Advice
© Ada Cambridge
"Friend," quoth Lord Nevil, "thou art young
To face the world, and thou art blind
To subtle ways of womankind;
The meshes thou wilt fall among.
Rise Ye! Rise Ye!
© Henry Lawson
Rise Ye! rise ye! noble toilers! claim your rights with fire and steel!
Rise ye! for the cursed tyrants crush ye with the hiron eel!
The Little Czar
© Henry Lawson
Oh, Great White Czar of Russia, who hid your face and ran,
Youve flung afar the grandest chance that ever came to man!
You might have been, and could have beenah, think it to your shame!
The Czar of all the Russias, in fact as well as name.
The River Of Ruin
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
ALONG by the river of ruin
They dally the thoughtless ones,
The Spelling Lesson
© Carolyn Wells
When Venus said: "Spell no for me,"
"N-O," Dan Cupid wrote with glee,
And smiled at his success;
"Ah, child," said Venus, laughing low,
"We women do not spell it so,
We spell it Y-E-S."
Winter Cares
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
"Of course, the fire consumes a lot of kindling wood,
When we warm up the house or cook a boiling pot.
Just think what kind of food we'd have to eat each day,
If there were no wood to burn and no helpful fire.
We'd have naught but sodden, sour swill to eat, like swine.
Aurora Leigh: Book Fifth
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
"A flower, a flower," exclaimed
My German student,-his own eyes full-blown
Bent on her. He was twenty, certainly.
The Preacher
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The impulse spread like the outward course
Of waters moved by a central force;
The tide of spiritual life rolled down
From inland mountains to seaboard town.
The Pastime of Pleasure: Of dysposycyon the II. parte of rethoryke - (til line 3950)
© Stephen Hawes
Of the merualyos argument bytwene Mars and fortune. Ca. xxvij.
3018 Besyde this toure of olde foundacyon
3019 There was a temple strongly edefyed
3020 To the hygh honoure and reputacyon
Achan
© Henry Kendall
I know how it is with the daughter of Jephthah,
(O Ada, my love, and the fairest of women!)
She wails in the time when her heart is so zealous
For God who hath stricken the children of Ammon.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
From The Gulf
© William Henry Ogilvie
Store cattle from Nelanjie! The mob goes feeding past,
With half-a-mile of sandhill 'twixt the leaders and the last;
Yellowjackets by Yusef Komunyakaa: American Life in Poetry #154 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-
© Ted Kooser
Here, poet Yusef Komunyakaa, who teaches at New York University, shows us a fine portrait of the hard life of a workerâin this case, a horseâand, through metaphor, the terrible, clumsy beauty of his final moments.
Yellowjackets
Peter Bell The Third
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.
