Work poems
/ page 18 of 355 /An Account of the Greatest English Poets (complete)
© Joseph Addison
Since, dearest Harry, you will needs requestA short account of all the muse possess'd;That, down from Chaucer's days to Dryden's times,Have spent their noble rage in British rhymes;Without more preface, wrote in formal length,To speak the undertaker's want of strength,I'll try to make their sev'ral beauties known,And show their verses' worth, though not my own
By the Marshes of Tantramar
© Adams Mary Electa
Evening is falling with a star:I wander lonely and afarDown by the marshes of Tantramar.
O Judge Me, Lord, for Thou art Just
© Adams John Quincy
O judge me, Lord, for thou art just; Thy statutes are my pride;In thee alone I put my trust; I therefore shall not slide:O prove me, try my reins and heart; Thy mercies, Lord, I know;I never took the scorner's part, Nor with the vain will go
Voronezh
© Aaron Rafi
The darkness drops its anchor on our lungs and wefeel the weight of each breath
David
© Earle Birney
IDavid and I that summer cut trails on the Survey,All week in the valley for wages, in air that was steepedIn the wail of mosquitoes, but over the sunalive weekendsWe climbed, to get from the ruck of the camp, the surly
Poker, the wrangling, the snoring under the fetidTents, and because we had joy in our lengthening coltishMuscles, and mountains for David were made to see over,Stairs from the valleys and steps to the sun's retreats
Blessens A-Left
© William Barnes
Lik' souls a-toss'd at sea I bore
Sad strokes o' trial, shock by shock,
The Hairst O' Rettie
© Robert Burns
I hae seen the hairst o' Rettie, lads,
And twa-three aff the throne.
I've heard o sax and seven weeks
The hairsters girn and groan.
The Waggon A-Stooded
© William Barnes
(1) Well, there, the vu'st lwoad we've a-haul'd to day
Is here a-stoodèd in theäse bed o' clay.
Here's rotten groun'! an' how the wheels do cut!
The little woone's a-zunk up to the nut.
Burial of Barber
© John Greenleaf Whittier
One more look of that dead face,
Of his murder's ghastly trace!
One more kiss, O widowed one!
Lay your left hands on his brow,
Lift you right hands up and vow
That his work shall yet be done.
"The Undying One" - Canto III
© Caroline Norton
"I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!
Epipsychidion
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sweet Spirit! Sister of that orphan one,
Whose empire is the name thou weepest on,
In my heart's temple I suspend to thee
These votive wreaths of withered memory.
Sonnet XXVIII. Past Sorrows.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
As tangled driftwood barring up a stream
Against our struggling oars when hope is high
To reach some fair green island we descry
Lying beyond us in the morning's gleam,
A Prayer To Saint Rosa
© Lesbia Harford
When I am so worn out I cannot sleep
And yet I know I have to work next day
With the Tide
© Edith Wharton
Somewhere I read, in an old book whose name
Is gone from me, I read that when the days
Ballade Of Truisms
© William Ernest Henley
Him and his to know decay,
Where undimmed the lights that wane
Would remain,
If it could be always May.
The Rancho In The Rain
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
The rabbit's ears are flattened and he's squattin' scared and still,
Ag'inst the dripping cedar; and the quail below the hill
Valentine--To Lizzie Siddal
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
YESTERDAY was St. Valentine.
Thought you at all, dear dove divine,
The Peonage System
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
The religious wars of Europe have been numbered with the past,
But a worse thing, bright America with clouds has overcast,
'Tis the heinous contract system that plantation life contains,
Worse than slavery's conditions in a land where freedom reigns.