Work poems

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Pajama Quotient

© Michael Rosen

Coinage of the not-yet-wholly-
            hardened custodians of public
health, as health is roughly measured
           ?in the rougher parts of Dearborn.

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The Kalevala - Rune XXII

© Elias Lönnrot

THE BRIDE'S FAREWELL.


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English Eclogues VI - The Ruined Cottage

© Robert Southey

  I pass this ruin'd dwelling oftentimes
  And think of other days. It wakes in me
  A transient sadness, but the feelings Charles
  That ever with these recollections rise,
  I trust in God they will not pass away.

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Epilogue to Schiller's Song of the Bell

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Mingled the crowds from ev'ry region brought,
And on the stage, in festal pomp array'd
The HOMAGE OF THE ARTS we saw displayed.

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Memory

© William Wordsworth

A pen-to register; a key-
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.

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Paradise Lost: Book I (1674)

© Patrick Kavanagh

So spake th' Apostate Angel, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare:
And him thus answer'd soon his bold Compeer.

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Under The Rose

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

Oh the rose of keenest thorn!
One hidden summer morn
Under the rose I was born.

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The Hunting of the Snark

© Lewis Carroll

"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
 As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
 By a finger entwined in his hair.

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Trying to Write a Poem While the Couple in the Apartment Overhead Make Love

© David Wagoner

She's like a singer straying slowly off key

while trying too hard to remember the words to a song

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Amen

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

It is over. What is over?
 Nay, now much is over truly!—
Harvest days we toiled to sow for;
 Now the sheaves are gathered newly,
 Now the wheat is garnered duly.

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The Flat-Hunter’s Way

© Edwin Morgan

We don’t get any too much light;

 It’s pretty noisy, too, at that;

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Alf’s Eleventh Bit

© Ezra Pound

My great press cleaves the guts of men,
My great noise drowns their cries,
My sales beat all the other ten,
Because I print most lies.

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The Cowboy

© James Tate

  Someone had spread an elaborate rumor about me, that I was

in possession of an extraterrestrial being, and I thought I knew who

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(“Leave off your works, bride...”)

© Anselm Hollo

Leave off your works, bride. Listen, the guest has come.
Do you hear, he is gently shaking the fastening chain of the door?
Let not your anklets be loud, and your steps be too hurried to meet him.
Leave off your works, bride, the guest has come, in the evening.

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To My Father's Business

© Kenneth Koch

Leo bends over his desk 

Gazing at a memorandum 

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Hymn For The Opening Of Thomas Starr King’s House Of Worship, 1864

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Amidst these glorious works of Thine,
The solemn minarets of the pine,
And awful Shasta's icy shrine,--

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Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part III.

© Henry James Pye

  Arm'd in her cause, on Chalgrave's fatal plain,
  Where sorrowing Freedom mourns her Hambden slain,
  Say, shall the moralizing bard presume
  From his proud hearse to tear one warlike plume,
  Because a Cæsar or a Cromwell wore
  An impious wreath, wet with their country's gore?

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Tithonus

© Alfred Tennyson

 Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful
In silence, then before thine answer given
Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek.

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Elegy with a Chimneysweep Falling Inside It

© Larry Levis

Those twenty-six letters filling the blackboard 
Compose the dark, compose
The illiterate summer sky & its stars as they appear 

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The Death Of Conradin

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

No cloud to dim the splendour of the day
Which breaks o'er Naples and her lovely bay,
And lights that brilliant sea and magic shore
With every tint that charmed the great of yore-
The imperial ones of earth, who proudly bade
Their marble domes e'en Ocean's realm invade.