Work poems
/ page 211 of 355 /A Parody
© Charles Lamb
Lazy-bones, lazy-bones, wake up and peep;
The Cat's in the cupboard, your Mother's asleep.
Sonnet XXXIX. Bayard Taylor.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
CAN one so strong in hope, so rich in bloom
That promised fruit of nobler worth than all
He yet had given, drop thus with sudden fall?
The busy brain no more its work resume?
Sohrab and Rustum: An Episode
© Matthew Arnold
"Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear!
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day.
But choose a champion from the Persian lords
To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man."
The Half Of Life Gone
© William Morris
No, no, it is she no longer; never again can she come
And behold the hay-wains creeping o'er the meadows of her home;
No more can she kiss her son or put the rake in his hand
That she handled a while agone in the midst of the haymaking band.
Her laughter is gone and her life; there is no such thing on the earth,
No share for me then in the stir, no share in the hurry and mirth.
R. I. in commendation of this worke
© Roger Cotton
You idle Drones, that fleece and cannot feede,
You speechles ones, that can not barke nor bay:
Old Paul and Old Tim
© William Schwenck Gilbert
When rival adorers come courting a maid,
There's something or other may often be said,
Why HE should be pitched upon rather than HIM.
This wasn't the case with Old PAUL and Old TIM.
Ode To The Austrian Socialists
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Let us remember Karl Marx Hof, Goethe Hof,
The one called Matteoti and all the rest.
They were little cities built by people for people.
They were shelled by six-inch guns.
It is strange to go
Fragmentary Scenes From The Road To Avernus
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Scene I
"Discontent"
LAURENCE RABY.
A Discontented Sugar Broker
© William Schwenck Gilbert
A gentleman of City fame
Now claims your kind attention;
To Dr. Moore,
© Helen Maria Williams
IN ANSWER TO A POETICAL EPISTLE WRITTEN TO
ME BY HIM IN WALES, SEPTEMBER 1791.
Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth
© Ovid
The End of the Thirteenth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Pharsalia - Book VI: The Fight Near Dyrhachium. Scaeva's Exploits. The Witch Of Thessalia.
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Now that the chiefs with minds intent on fight
Had drawn their armies near upon the hills
Others Successes
© Edgar Albert Guest
CAN you go to another who wins in the fight
And give him a hand-shake that "s true?
The Ant
© Richard Lovelace
Forbear, thou great good husband, little ant;
A little respite from thy flood of sweat!
Thou, thine own horse and cart under this plant,
Thy spacious tent, fan thy prodigious heat;
Down with thy double load of that one grain!
It is a granarie for all thy train.
The Future Of Hands
© Larry Levis
And writing this,
I stare at my hands,
Which are the chroniclers of my death,
Which pull me into this paper
Each night, as onto a bed of silk sheets,
And the woman gone.
Written in London. September, 1802
© William Wordsworth
O Friend! I know not which way I must look
For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,