Work poems
/ page 225 of 355 /Doctor Hilaire
© William Henry Drummond
A stranger might say if he see heem drink till he almos' fall,
"Doctor lak dat for sick folk, hes never no use at all,"
But wait till you hear de story dey 're tellin' about heem yet,
An' see if you don't hear somet'ing, mebbe you won't forget.
Jeanne-Marie's Hands
© Arthur Rimbaud
Jeanne-Marie has strong hands; dark hands tanned by the summer,
pale hands like dead hands. Are they the hands of Donna Juana?
Did they get their dusky cream colour
sailing on pools of sensual pleasure?
Peripeteia
© Anthony Evan Hecht
Of course, the familiar rustling of programs,
My hair mussed from behind by a grand gesture
On ------ Embroydring
© Thomas Parnell
How justly art when Cælia aids so well
Contends her ms nature to excell
The Song of the Surf
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
WHITE steeds of ocean, that leap with a hollow and wearisome roar
On the bar of ironstone steep, not a fathoms length from the shore,
A Poem Sacred to the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton
© James Thomson
And what new wonders can ye show your guest!
Who, while on this dim spot, where mortals toil
Clouded in dust, from motion's simple laws,
Could trace the secret hand of Providence,
Wide-working through this universal frame.
Eight Sonnets
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
I shall remember only of this hour--
And weep somewhat, as now you see me weep--
The pathos of your love, that, like a flower,
Fearful of death yet amorous of sleep,
Droops for a moment and beholds, dismayed,
The wind whereon its petals shall be laid.
Nonsuited.
© James Brunton Stephens
"DEAR RICHARD, come at once;" so ran her letter;
The letter of a married female friend:
The Cathedral
© James Russell Lowell
Far through the memory shines a happy day,
Cloudless of care, down-shod to every sense,
Wax Job
© Charles Bukowski
man, he said, sitting on the steps
your car sure needs a wash and wax job
I can do it for you for 5 bucks,
I got the wax, I got the rags, I got everything
I need.
Italy : 4. The Great St. Bernard
© Samuel Rogers
Night was again descending, when my mule,
That all day long had climbed among the clouds,
Higher and higher still, as by a stair
Let down from heaven itself, transporting me,
Fame
© Edgar Albert Guest
FAME is a fickle jade at best,
And he who seeks to win her smile
Must trudge, disdaining play or rest,
O'er many a long and weary mile.
To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias
© Alfred Tennyson
. OLD FITZ, who from your suburb grange,
Where once I tarried for a while,
He had his Dream
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
He had his dream, and all through life,
Worked up to it through toil and strife.
HERE I sit with my paper
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
HERE I sit with my paper, my pen my ink,
First of this thing, and that thing,
An Essay on Man: Epistle II
© Alexander Pope
Superior beings, when of late they saw
A mortal Man unfold all Nature's law,
Admir'd such wisdom in an earthly shape,
And showed a Newton as we shew an Ape.
A Masque Presented At Ludlow Castle, 1634. (Comus)
© John Milton
The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of
deliciousness: soft music, tables spread with all dainties. Comus
appears with his rabble, and the LADY set in an enchanted chair;
to
whom he offers his glass; which she puts by, and goes about to
rise.
Home And The Office
© Edgar Albert Guest
Home is the place where the laughter should ring,
And man should be found at his best.
On His Ladies Waking
© Pierre de Ronsard
My lady woke upon a morning fair,
What time Apollos chariot takes the skies,