Work poems
/ page 156 of 355 /The Lonely Life
© Giacomo Leopardi
The morning rain, when, from her coop released,
The hen, exulting, flaps her wings, when from
Julian and Maddalo : A Conversation
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand
Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand,
Athens: An Ode
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
ERE from under earth again like fire the violet kindle, [Str. I.
Ere the holy buds and hoar on olive-branches bloom,
The Flower's Lesson
© Louisa May Alcott
Night came again, and the fire-flies flew;
But the bud let them pass, and drank of the dew;
While the soft stars shone, from the still summer heaven,
On the happy little flower that had learned the lesson given.
The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
The Undertaking
© John Donne
I have done one braver thing
Than all the Worthies did,
And yet a braver thence doth spring,
Which is, to keep that hid.
Lines Left Upon The Seat Of A Yew-Tree,
© William Wordsworth
which stands near the lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding a beautiful prospect.
NAY, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
In The Waste Hour
© William Ernest Henley
Nay, there were we,
Her five strong sons!
To her Death came--the great Deliverer came! -
As equal comes to equal, throne to throne.
She was a mother of men.
227. Verses on Friars Carse Hermitage (First Version)
© Robert Burns
THOU whom chance may hither lead,
Be thou clad in russet weed,
Be thou deckt in silken stole,
Grave these maxims on thy soul.
Polish Flowers
© Julian Tuwim
A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker at a dark doorway squats,
The spuds in his bowl are powdery dry.
It's a face of yellowish and gray spots
In the midst of hunger, cold, dirt and slime.
The Old Pioneers
© Frank Dalby Davison
h, these old friends of ours! Sixty years back,
Bearded and booted, they followed the track,
L'ile Sainte Croix
© Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton
WITH tangled brushwood overgrown,
And here and there a lofty pine,
Around whose form strange creepers twine,
And crags that mock the wild sea's moan,
90. Epistle to James Smith
© Robert Burns
Whilst Ibut I shall haud me there,
Wi you Ill scarce gang ony where
Then, Jamie, I shall say nae mair,
But quat my sang,
Content wi you to mak a pair.
Whareer I gang.
To The Poet, John Dyer
© William Wordsworth
BARD of the Fleece, whose skilful genius made
That work a living landscape fair and bright;
Nor hallowed less with musical delight
Than those soft scenes through which thy childhood strayed,
208. SongTo the Weavers gin ye go
© Robert Burns
MY heart was ance as blithe and free
As simmer days were lang;
But a bonie, westlin weaver lad
Has gart me change my sang.
146. Address to Edinburgh
© Robert Burns
EDINA! Scotias darling seat!
All hail thy palaces and towrs,
Where once, beneath a Monarchs feet,
Sat Legislations sovreign powrs:
Earth-Bound
© Alfred Noyes
Ghosts? Love would fain believe,
Earth being so fair, the dead might wish to return!
Is it so strange if, even in heaven, they yearn
For the May-time and the dreams it used to give?
Meeting Of The Alumni Of Harvard College
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I THANK you, MR. PRESIDENT, you've kindly broke the ice;
Virtue should always be the first,--I 'm only SECOND VICE--
(A vice is something with a screw that's made to hold its jaw
Till some old file has played away upon an ancient saw).