Work poems
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Rural Sports: A Georgic - Canto I.
© John Gay
But when the sun displays his glorious beams,
And shallow rivers flow with silver streams,
Then the deceit the scaly breed survey,
Bask in the sun, and look into the day.
You now a more delusive art must try,
And tempt their hunger with the curious fly.
An Evening Walk
© William Wordsworth
Addressed To A Young Lady
FAR from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
Home, Wounded
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Wheel me into the sunshine,
Wheel me into the shadow,
There must be leaves on the woodbine,
Is the king-cup crowned in the meadow?
A Fine Sight
© Edgar Albert Guest
I reckon the finest sight of all
That a man can see in this world of ours
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf XIV. -- The Crew Of The
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay
King Olaf's fleet assembled lay,
To Fletcher Reviv'd
© Richard Lovelace
How have I bin religious? what strange good
Has scap't me, that I never understood?
Have I hel-guarded Haeresie o'rthrowne?
Heald wounded states? made kings and kingdoms one?
That FATE should be so merciful to me,
To let me live t' have said I have read thee.
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter V
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Griselda's madness lasted forty days,
Forty eternities! Men went their ways,
And suns arose and set, and women smiled,
And tongues wagged lightly in impeachment wild
The Poets Lot
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHAT is a poet's love?--
To write a girl a sonnet,
To get a ring, or some such thing,
And fustianize upon it.
Tale XVI
© George Crabbe
cause -
This creature frights her, overpowers, and awes."
Six weeks had pass'd--"In truth, my love, this
The Wantaritencant
© Henry Lawson
IT WATCHED ME in the cradle laid, and from my boyhoods home
It glared above my shoulder-blade when I wrote my first pome;
Its sidled by me ever since, with greeny eyes aslant
It is the thing (O, Priest and Prince!) that wants to write, but cant.
Bruno The Hunter
© William Henry Drummond
You never hear tell, Marie, ma femme,
Of Bruno de hunter man,
Wit' hees wild dogs chasin' de moose an' deer,
Every day on de long, long year,
Off on de hillside far an' near,
An' down on de beeg savane?
Three Jolly Huntsmen
© Jessie Pope
Three jolly, old huntsmen, Joe, Jerry, Jim,
Took lunch at "The Three Cornered Hat";
Now Jerry was lanky, but Joe wasn't slim,
And Jim was delightfully fat.
The Escape of the Old Grey Squirrel
© Alfred Noyes
All the same, one never knew.
All things come to those who wait -
Isles of palm in rose and blue,
India, China and Peru,
And the Golden Gate.
Plighted
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Mine to the core of the heart, my beauty!
Mine, all mine, and for love, not duty:
Love given willingly, full and free,
Love for love's sake, - as mine to thee.
St. Luke
© John Keble
Two clouds before the summer gale
In equal race fleet o'er the sky:
Two flowers, when wintry blasts assail,
Together pins, together die.
Leady-Day, An Ridden House
© William Barnes
Aye, back at Leädy-Day, you know,
I come vrom Gullybrook to Stowe;
