Work poems
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Sonnet XXVII
© William Shakespeare
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
The Pastoral Letter
© John Greenleaf Whittier
So, this is all, the utmost reach
Of priestly power the mind to fetter!
When laymen think, when women preach,
A war of words, a "Pastoral Letter!"
Italy : 20. Marcolini
© Samuel Rogers
It was midnight; the great clock had struck, and was
still echoing through every porch and gallery in the
quarter of St. Mark, when a young Citizen, wrapped
in his cloak, was hastening home under it from an interview
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 118.
© Alfred Tennyson
Who throve and branch'd from clime to clime,
The herald of a higher race,
And of himself in higher place,
If so he type this work of time
Bronx
© Joseph Rodman Drake
I SAT me down upon a green bank-side,
Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river,
Whose waters seemed unwillingly to glide,
Like parting friends who linger while they sever;
Enforced to go, yet seeming still unready,
Backward they wind their way in many a wistful eddy.
Sonnet XCIII
© William Shakespeare
So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a deceived husband; so love's face
May still seem love to me, though alter'd new;
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:
Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame
© William Shakespeare
Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
Sonnet V
© William Shakespeare
Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
Pigtail
© Tadeusz Ròzewicz
When all the women in the transport
had their heads shaved
four workmen with brooms made of birch twigs
swept up
and gathered up the hair
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - June
© George MacDonald
1.
FROM thine, as then, the healing virtue goes
Astrophel's Song Of Phyllida And Corydon
© Nicholas Breton
Fair in a morn (O fairest morn!),
Was never morn so fair,
Sonnet LXXVIII
© William Shakespeare
So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse
And found such fair assistance in my verse
As every alien pen hath got my use
And under thee their poesy disperse.
Sonnet LV
© William Shakespeare
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.
The Ghost - Book II
© Charles Churchill
A sacred standard rule we find,
By poets held time out of mind,
Sonnet CXXIV
© William Shakespeare
If my dear love were but the child of state,
It might for Fortune's bastard be unfather'd'
As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate,
Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather'd.
On Dante's Monument, 1818
© Giacomo Leopardi
Though all the nations now
Peace gathers under her white wings,
Sonnet CXI
© William Shakespeare
O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
That did not better for my life provide
Than public means which public manners breeds.
A Grammarian's Funeral Shortly After The Revival Of Learning
© Robert Browning
Let us begin and carry up this corpse,
Singing together.
