Work poems
/ page 186 of 355 /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.
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.
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.
Memory
© William Wordsworth
A pen-to register; a key-
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
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.
Under The Rose
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Oh the rose of keenest thorn!
One hidden summer morn
Under the rose I was born.
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.
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
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.
The Flat-Hunter’s Way
© Edwin Morgan
We don’t get any too much light;
It’s pretty noisy, too, at that;
Alfs 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.
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
(“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.
Hymn For The Opening Of Thomas Starr Kings 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,--
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?
Tithonus
© Alfred Tennyson
Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful
In silence, then before thine answer given
Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek.
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
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.