Work poems
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A Lay of the Links
© Doyle Arthur Conan
It's up and away from our work to-day, For the breeze sweeps over the down;And it's hey for a game where the gorse blossoms flame, And the bracken is bronzing to brown
[Tutelage]
© John Donne
Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love,And in that sophistry, O, thou dost proveToo subtle; fool, thou didst not understandThe mystic language of the eye nor hand;Nor couldst thou judge the difference of the airOf sighs, and say, "This lies, this sounds despair";Nor by th' eye's water cast a maladyDesperately hot, or changing feverously
To the Countess of Bedford [To have written then, when you writ, seem'd to me ...]
© John Donne
To have written then, when you writ, seem'd to meWorst of spiritual vices, simony ;And not to have written then seems little lessThan worst of civil vices, thanklessness
The Bracelet
© John Donne
Not that in colour it was like thy hair,For armlets of that thou mayst let me wear;Nor that thy hand is oft embrac'd and kiss'd,For so it had that good which oft I miss'd;Not for that seely old morality,That as those links are tied our love should be;Nor for the luck sake; but the bitter cost
The Footman: An Epistle to my Friend Mr. Wright
© Dodsley Robert
Dear FRIEND,Since I am now at leisure,And in the Country taking Pleasure,If it be worth your while to hearA silly Footman's Business there,I'll try to tell, in easy Rhyme,How I in London spend my Time
Art Thou Poor
© Thomas Dekker
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? O sweet content!Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed? O punishment!Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexedTo add to golden numbers, golden numbers?O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content! Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labour bears a lovely face; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!
Canst drink the waters of the crisped spring? O sweet content!Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? O punishment!Then he that patiently want's burden bearsNo burden bears, but is a king, a king:O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content! Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labour bears a lovely face; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!
Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,Smiles awake you when you rise
Musophilus
© Samuel Daniel
Power above powers, O heavenly eloquence, That with the strong rein of commanding words Dost manage, guide, and master th' eminence Of men's affections more than all their swords: Shall we not offer to thy excellence The richest treasure that our wit affords? Thou that canst do much more with one poor pen Than all the powers of princes can effect, And draw, divert, dispose, and fashion menBetter than force or rigour can direct: Should we this ornament of glory then, As th' unmaterial fruits of shades, neglect?Or should we, careless, come behind the rest In power of words, that go before in worth? Whenas our accents, equal to the best, Is able greater wonders to bring forth; When all that ever hotter spirits express'd, Comes better'd by the patience of the north
The Civil Wars between the Two Houses of Lancaster and York
© Samuel Daniel
The swift approach and unexpected speedThe king had made upon this new-rais'd force,In the unconfirmed troops, much fear did breed,Untimely hind'ring their intended course
Love Letters
© Crosbie Lynn
I would give my husband drawings for grocery lists,with smiling faces on the eggs, and spider feetdangling everywhere
Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Part IA silver ring that he had beaten outFrom that same sacred coin--first well-priz'd wageFor boyish labour, kept thro' many years
The Task: from Book IV: The Winter Evening
© William Cowper
Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge,That with its wearisome but needful lengthBestrides the wintry flood, in which the moonSees her unwrinkled face reflected bright,He comes, the herald of a noisy world,With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks;News from all nations lumb'ring at his back
