Work poems

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Full Fathom Five

© Sylvia Plath

Old man, you surface seldom.
Then you come in with the tide's coming
When seas wash cold, foam-

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As Ireland Wore the Green

© Henry Lawson

BY RIGHT of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?

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Under The Willows

© James Russell Lowell

Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,

Gypsy, whose roof is every spreading tree,

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A Worker Reads History

© Bertolt Brecht

Each page a victory
At whose expense the victory ball?
Every ten years a great man,
Who paid the piper?

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The Columbiad: Book VI

© Joel Barlow


But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.

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Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 03 - Atomic Forms And Their Combinations

© Lucretius

Now come, and next hereafter apprehend

What sorts, how vastly different in form,

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The Temple

© Edgar Lee Masters

Beyond the gates of Hercules
The seven builders took the stone,
Spurned everywhere in days of ease,
Long lying loose and overthrown,
Now carried over bitter seas
Where crystally Arcturus shone!

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Autumn Wealth

© Kristijonas Donelaitis

Of course, there is no lack of faithful Christians ,too.
Most of Lithuanians are men of good character;
They love their families, obey the will of God.
Each day live saintly lives, steer clear of all misdeeds,
And rule their modest homes with kind parental care.

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Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 01

© Torquato Tasso

THE ARGUMENT.

Satan his fiends and assembleth all,

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Anhelli - Chapter 7

© Juliusz Slowacki

And the Shaman said : "Lo, now we shall show no more miracles,
nor the power of God that is in us, but we shall weep,
for we have come unto people who see not the sun.

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Thoughts Of A Father

© Edgar Albert Guest

We've never seen the Father here, but we have known the Son,
The finest type of manhood since the world was first begun.
And, summing up the works of God, I write with reverent pen,
The greatest is the Son He sent to cheer the lives of men.

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The Spagnoletto. Act II

© Emma Lazarus

  Ball in the Palace of DON JOHN.  Dance.  DON JOHN and MARIA
  together. DON TOMMASO, ANNICCA.  LORDS and LADIES, dancing or
  promenading.

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The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Seventh

© William Wordsworth

"Powers there are
  That touch each other to the quick--in modes
  Which the gross world no sense hath to perceive,
  No soul to dream of."

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The Rain And The Wind

© William Ernest Henley

The rain and the wind, the wind and the rain -

  They are with us like a disease:

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The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto First

© William Wordsworth

FROM Bolton's old monastic tower
The bells ring loud with gladsome power;
The sun shines bright; the fields are gay
With people in their best array

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The Woods

© Frances Anne Kemble

The air is full of countless voices, joined
In one eternal hymn; the whispering wind,
The shuddering leaves, the hidden water springs,
The work-song of the bees, whose honeyed wings
Hang in the golden tresses of the lime,
Or buried lie in purple beds of thyme.

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My Part

© Edgar Albert Guest

I may never be a hero, I am past the limit now,
There are pencil marks of silver Time has left upon my brow;
I shall win no service medals, I shall hear no cannons' roar,
I shall never fight a battle higher up than eagles soar,
But I hope my children's children may recall my name with pride
As a man who never whimpered when his soul was being tried.

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The Golden Legend: II. A Farm In The Odenwald

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  _Elsie._ Here are flowers for you,
But they are not all for you.
Some of them are for the Virgin
And for Saint Cecilia.

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Dedication for The Hunting Of The Snark

© Lewis Carroll

Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task,
Eager she wields her spade: yet loves as well
Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask
The tale he loves to tell.