Work poems
/ page 104 of 355 /The Church Of Brou
© Matthew Arnold
Down the Savoy valleys sounding,
Echoing round this castle old,
'Mid the distant mountain-chalets
Hark! what bell for church is toll'd?
Prejudice
© Jane Taylor
It is not worth our while, but if it were,
We all could undertake to laugh at her ;
Since vulgar prejudice, the lowest kind,
Of course, has full possession of her mind ;
Here, therefore, let us leave her, and inquire
Wherein it differs as it rises higher.
Where Are The Temperance People? In Reply To A Query
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Where are the temperance people?
All scattered here and there,
Sowing the seeds of righteous deeds,
That the harvest may be fair.
Consolation
© Harriet Beecher Stowe
Ah, many-voiced and angry! how the waves
Beat turbulent with terrible uproar!
Is there no rest from tossing, - no repose?
Where shall we find a haven and a shore?
God Speaks
© Lesbia Harford
I made a heaven for you filled with stars,
Each star a song
Meant to give happy music to your ear,
Day and night long.
Be Lost In The Call
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Reality replied: O prisoner of time,
I was a secret treasure of kindness and generosity,
and I wished this treasure to be known,
so I created a mirror: its shining face, the heart;
its darkened back, the world;
The back would please you if you've never seen the face.
Elegy XI. He Complains How Soon the Pleasing Novelty of Life Is Over
© William Shenstone
Ah me, my Friend! it will not, will not last,
This fairy scene, that cheats our youthful eyes;
The charm dissolves; th' aerial music's past;
The banquet ceases, and the vision flies.
Sunday
© George MacDonald
A dim, vague shrinking haunts my soul,
My spirit bodeth ill-
As some far-off restraining bank
Had burst, and waters, many a rank,
Were marching on my hill;
The Song Of The Forest Ranger
© Herbert Bashford
Oh, to feel the fresh breeze blowing
From lone ridges yet untrod!
Oh, to see the far peak growing
Whiter as it climbs to God!
Song of the Squatter
© Anonymous
The boss last night in the hut did say
We start to muster at break of day;
So be up first thing, and dont be slow;
Saddle your horses and off you go.
Elegy For Whatever Had A Pattern In It
© Larry Levis
Keep your eyes on him as he lifts & swings fifty-pound boxes of late
Elberta peaches up to me where I'm standing on a flatbed trailer & breathing in
Tractor exhaust so thick it bends the air, bends things seen through it
Grandfather Squeers
© James Whitcomb Riley
"My grandfather Squeers," said The Raggedy Man,
As he solemnly lighted his pipe and began--
Prometheus
© James Russell Lowell
One after one the stars have risen and set,
Sparkling upon the hoarfrost on my chain:
The Four Seasons : Spring
© James Thomson
Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
The Second Booke Of Qvodlibets
© Robert Hayman
Epigrams are much like to Oxymell,
Hony and Vineger compounded well:
Hony, and sweet in their inuention,
Vineger in their reprehension.
As sowre, sweet Oxymell, doth purge though fleagme:
These are to purge Vice, take them as they meane.
A Bill for the Better Promotion of Oppression on the Sabbath Day
© Thomas Love Peacock
Forasmuch as the Canter's and Fanatic's Lord
Sayeth peace and joy are by me abhorred;
Queen Mab: Part VI.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
All touch, all eye, all ear,
The Spirit felt the Fairy's burning speech.