Work poems
/ page 148 of 355 /Ole Docteur Fiset
© William Henry Drummond
Ole Docteur Fiset of Saint Anicet,
Sapré tonnerre! he was leev long tam!
I'm sure he's got ninety year or so,
Beat all on de Parish 'cept Pierre Courteau,
An' day affer day he work all de sam'.
The Forester
© Madison Julius Cawein
I met him here at Ammendorf one Spring.
It was the end of April and the Harz,
For Dolly -- Who Does Not Learn Her Lessons
© Edith Nesbit
You see the fairies dancing in the fountain,
Laughing, leaping, sparkling with the spray;
The Gift Of Harun Al-Rashid
© William Butler Yeats
KUSTA BEN LUKA is my name, I write
To Abd Al-Rabban; fellow-roysterer once,
Now the good Caliph's learned Treasurer,
And for no ear but his.
Poirier's Rooster
© William Henry Drummond
"W'at's dat? de ole man gone, you say?
Wall! Wall! he mus' be sick,
The Instructiphone
© Carolyn Wells
There was a youthful genius once, a boy of thirteen years,
Named Cyrus Franklin Edison Lavoisier De Squeers.
To study he was not inclined, for fun he had a bent;
But there was just one article he wanted to invent.
Saint Maura: A.D. 304
© Charles Kingsley
Thank God! Those gazers' eyes are gone at last!
The guards are crouching underneath the rock;
The Jubilee Of A Magazine:(To The Editor)
© Thomas Hardy
Yes; your up-dated modern page -
All flower-fresh, as it appears -
Can claim a time-tried lineage,
To Shakespeare (I)
© Frances Anne Kemble
If from the height of that celestial sphere
Where now thou dwell'st, spirit powerful and sweet!
LA BOCCA DE-LA-VERITA' (The mouth Of truth)
© Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
In d'una chiesa sopra a 'na piazzetta
Un po' ppiù ssù de Piazza Montanara
Pe la strada che pporta a la Salara,
C'è in nell'entrà una cosa benedetta.
Endymion: A Mystical Comment On Titian's 'Sacred And Profane Love'
© James Russell Lowell
Long she abode aloof there in her heaven,
Far as the grape-bunch of the Pleiad seven
Beyond my madness' utmost leap; but here
Mine eyes have feigned of late her rapture near,
Moulded of mind-mist that broad day dispels,
Here in these shadowy woods and brook-lulled dells.
A Story Of Doom: Book IX.
© Jean Ingelow
The prayer of Noah. The man went forth by night
And listened; and the earth was dark and still,
Kaiser Dead
© Matthew Arnold
What, Kaiser dead? The heavy news
Post-haste to Cobham calls the Muse,
From where in Farringford she brews
The ode sublime,
Or with Pen-bryn's bold bard pursues
A rival rhyme.
Youth
© Edgar Albert Guest
If I had youth I'd bid the world to try me;
I'd answer every challenge to my will.
The Tarry Buccaneer
© John Masefield
I'm going to be a pirate with a bright brass pivot-gun,
And an island in the Spanish Main beyond the setting sun,
And a silver flagon full of red wine to drink when work is done,
Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer.
The Miller's Maid
© Robert Bloomfield
Near the high road upon a winding stream
An honest Miller rose to Wealth and Fame:
The noblest Virtues cheer'd his lengthen'd days,
And all the Country echo'd with his praise:
His Wife, the Doctress of the neighb'ring Poor,
Drew constant pray'rs and blessings round his door.
Checking The Day
© Edgar Albert Guest
"I had a full day in my purse
When I arose, and now it's gone!
Botany-Bay Flowers
© Barron Field
GOD of this Planet! for the name best fits
The purblind view, which men of this "dim spot"
Work Shy by Alex Phillips: American Life in Poetry #79 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
The news coverage of Hurricane Katrina gave America a vivid look at our poor and powerless neighbors. Here Alex Phillips of Massachusetts condenses his observations of our country's underclass into a wise, tough little poem.