Work poems
/ page 194 of 355 /
Inside of King's College Chapel, Cambridge
© André Breton
Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense,
When Your Sins Come Home to Roost
© Henry Lawson
When you fear the barbers mirror when you go to get a crop,
Or in sorrow every morning comb your hair across the top:
When you titivate and do the little things you never used
It is close upon the season when your sins come home to roost.
H. S. Mauberley (Life and Contacts) [Part I]
© Ezra Pound
E. P. Ode pour l'élection de son sépulchre
For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start i
Paradise Lost: Book IV
© Patrick Kavanagh
"Which of those rebel Spirits adjudg'd to Hell
Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison? and, transform'd,
Why satt'st thou like an enemy in wait,
Here watching at the head of these that sleep?"
The Lay for the Troubled Golfer
© Edgar Albert Guest
His eye was wild and his face was taut with anger and hate and rage,
And the things he muttered were much too strong for the ink of the printed page.
I found him there when the dusk came down, in his golf clothes still was he,
And his clubs were strewn around his feet as he told his grief to me:
Id an easy five for a seventy-ninein sight of the golden goal
An easy five and I took an eightan eight on the eighteenth hole!
Ode XVIII: To The Right Honourable Francis Earl Of Huntington
© Mark Akenside
I. 2.
Nor less prevailing is their charm
The vengeful bosom to disarm;
To melt the proud with human woe,
And prompt unwilling tears to flow.
The Wood-Cutter's Night Song
© John Clare
Welcome, red and roundy sun,
Dropping lowly in the west;
Now my hard day's work is done,
I'm as happy as the best.
The Retreat From Moscow
© Victor Marie Hugo
It snowed. A defeat was our conquest red!
For once the eagle was hanging its head.
Hymn to Life
© James Schuyler
The wind rests its cheek upon the ground and feels the cool damp
And lifts its head with twigs and small dead blades of grass
The Prayer Of Nature
© George Gordon Byron
Father of Light! great God of Heaven!
Hear'st thou the accents of despair?
Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven?
Can vice atone for crimes by prayer?
Kaas Hunting
© Rudyard Kipling
His spots are the joy of the Leopard: his horns are the Buffalos pride.
Be clean, for the strength of the hunter is known by the gloss of his hide.
A Psalm For New Years Eve
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
A FRIEND stands at the door;
In either tight-closed hand
Hiding rich gifts, three hundred and three score:
Waiting to strew them daily o'er the land
The Town Dump
© Howard Nemerov
“The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious.”
To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Nothing
© William Butler Yeats
NOW all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
Phyllis
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Sunshine or shadow, or gold day or gray day,
Life must be lived as our destinies rule;
Leisure or labor or work day or play day
Feasts for the famous and fun for the fool;
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day.
Ancestor
© James Russell Lowell
It was a time when they were afraid of him.
My father, a bare man, a gypsy, a horse
Fears In Solitude. Written In April, 1798, During The Alarm Of An Invasion
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A green and silent spot, amid the hills,
A small and silent dell! O'er stiller place
No singing sky-lark ever poised himself.
The hills are heathy, save that swelling slope,
An Essay on Man: Epistle I
© Alexander Pope
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke
Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things
Eagle Affirmation
© John Kinsella
You’ve got to understand that sighting the pair
of eagles over the block, right over our house,
The Habitants Summer
© William Henry Drummond
O, who can blame de winter, never min'
de hard he 's blowin'
