Work poems
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Woman and Child
© Judith Beveridge
They listen to the myna birds dicker in the grass.
The child’s blue shoes are caked with
The Poet at Seventeen
© Larry Levis
My youth? I hear it mostly in the long, volleying
Echoes of billiards in the pool halls where
I spent it all, extravagantly, believing
My delicate touch on a cue would last for years.
Adam’s Curse
© William Butler Yeats
We sat grown quiet at the name of love;
We saw the last embers of daylight die,
And in the trembling blue-green of the sky
A moon, worn as if it had been a shell
Washed by time’s waters as they rose and fell
About the stars and broke in days and years.
A Shropshire Lad I: From Clee to heaven the beacon burns
© Alfred Edward Housman
From Clee to heaven the beacon burns,
The shires have seen it plain,
From north and south the sign returns
And beacons burn again.
The Landscape near an Aerodrome
© Stephen Spender
More beautiful and soft than any moth
With burring furred antennae feeling its huge path
Through dusk, the air-liner with shut-off engines
Glides over suburbs and the sleeves set trailing tall
To point the wind. Gently, broadly, she falls,
Scarcely disturbing charted currents of air.
Tokens
© William Barnes
Green mwold on zummer bars do show
That they've a-dripped in winter wet;
The hoof-worn ring o' groun' below
The tree do tell o' storms or het;
The Moon and the Comet
© Amelia Opie
This fact is clear….Both man and woman
Prize not what's good, but what's uncommon ;
And most delighted still they are,
Not with the excellent, but rare,….
I could of this give proofs most stable,
But, par exemple , take a fable.
Basil Moss
© Henry Kendall
SING, mountain-wind, thy strong, superior song
Thy haughty alpine anthem, over tracts
To The Moon Of The South
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Let him go down,--the gallant Sun!
His work is nobly done;
Well may He now absorb
Within his solid orb
The Child on the Cliffs
© Edward Thomas
Mother, the root of this little yellow flower
Among the stones has the taste of quinine.
Things are strange to-day on the cliff. The sun shines so bright,
And the grasshopper works at his sewing-machine
So hard. Here’s one on my hand, mother, look;
I lie so still. There’s one on your book.
William Blake
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THIS is the place. Even here the dauntless soul,
The unflinching hand, wrought on; till in that nook,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 02 - Nature And Composition Of The Mind
© Lucretius
First, then, I say, the mind which oft we call
The intellect, wherein is seated life's
My Last Afternoon with Uncle Devereux Winslow
© Robert Lowell
a black pile and a white pile....
Come winter,
Uncle Devereux would blend to the one color.
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto IV.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III Compensation
That nothing here may want its praise,
Know, she who in her dress reveals
A fine and modest taste, displays
More loveliness than she conceals.
A Winter Piece
© William Cullen Bryant
The time has been that these wild solitudes,
Yet beautiful as wild, were trod by me
Oftener than now; and when the ills of life
Had chafed my spirit--when the unsteady pulse
The GOD of Tempest.
© Mather Byles
I.
Thy dreadful Pow'r, Almighty GOD,
Thy Works to speak conspire;
This Earth declares thy Fame abroad,
With Water, Air, and Fire.
Nineteen Hundred And Nineteen
© William Butler Yeats
MANY ingenious lovely things are gone
That seemed sheer miracle to the multitude,
Learning to Read
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Very soon the Yankee teachers
Came down and set up school;
But, oh! how the Rebs did hate it,—
It was agin’ their rule.
A Monumental Column : A Funeral Elegy
© John Webster
To The Right Honourable Sir Robert Carr, Viscount Rochester, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, and One Of His Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council.
The greatest of the kingly race is gone,
