Work poems
/ page 130 of 355 /Mystic and Cavalier
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
GO from me: I am one of those who fall.
What! hath no cold wind swept your heart at all,
Told By "The Noted Traveler"
© James Whitcomb Riley
Even so had they wrought all ways
To earn the pennies, and hoard them, too,--
And with what ultimate end in view?--
They were saving up money enough to be
Able, in time, to buy their own
Five children back.
There Is Still Splendour
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O when will life taste clean again? For the air
Is fouled: the world sees, hears; and each day brings
Vile fume that would corrupt eternal things,
Were they corruptible. Harsh trumpets blare
The Muses Threnodie: First Muse
© Henry Adamson
Of Mr George Ruthven the tears and mournings,
Amidst the giddie course of fortune's turnings,
Upon his dear friend's death, Mr John Gall,
Where his rare ornaments bear a part, and wretched Gabions all.
Right Of Way
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
"Save your hoss for the hills ahead," is the cowboy's placid song.
While his clear eyes follow the twinkling train as the Titan speeds along;
A Reed Shaken In The Wind
© Madison Julius Cawein
To say to hope,--Take all from me,
And grant me naught:
The rose, the song, the melody,
The word, the thought:
Then all my life bid me be slave,--
Is all I crave.
When Haizy Clouds Obscure The Night
© Thomas Parnell
When Haizy clouds obscure the night
No more the starrs afford us light
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.
The Drums of Ages
© Henry Lawson
DRUMS of all thats right and wrongof love and hate and scorn,
And the new-born baby hears them and it wails when it is born.
Drums of all that is to be, and all that has gone by,
And we hear them when were dreaming, and we hear them while we die.
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.
A Captain Of Song
© Francis Thompson
(On a portrait of Coventry Patmore by J. S. Sargent, R.A.)
Look on him. This is he whose works ye know;
The Bird of Jesus
© Padraic Colum
Each had a bearing that was like a prince's,
Yet they were simple lads and had the kindness
Of our own folk lads simple and unknowing:
Then, afterwards, we went to visit them.
The Pig and the Rooster
© Clement Clarke Moore
Thus ended the strife, as does many a fight;
Each thought his foe wrong, and his own notions right.
Pig turn'd, with a grunt, to his mire anew,
And He-biddy, laughing, cried -- cock-a-doodle-doo.
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 North Sea -- Second Cycle
© Heinrich Heine
The waves are murmuring, the sea-gulls crying,
Wafts of old memories over me steal,
Old dreams long forgotten, old visions long vanished,
Sweet and torturing, rise from the deep..
The Thraldom
© Abraham Cowley
I came, I saw, and was undone;
Lightning did through my bones and marrow run;
A pointed pain pierc'd deep my heart;
A swift cold trembling seiz'd on every part;
My head turn'd round, nor could it bear
The poison that was enter'd there.
The Day of The Lord
© Charles Kingsley
The Day of the Lord is at hand, at hand:
Its storms roll up the sky:
A Morning Exercise
© William Wordsworth
Through border wilds where naked Indians stray,
Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;
A feathered task-master cries, "WORK AWAY!"
And, in thy iteration, "WHIP POOR WILL!"
Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave,
Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave.