Work poems
/ page 227 of 355 /
The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
At the age of 37
She knew she'd found forever,
As she rolled along through Paris
With the warm wind in her hair.
Julia, or the Convent of St. Claire
© Amelia Opie
Stranger, that massy, mouldering pile,
Whose ivied ruins load the ground,
Reechoed once to pious strains
By holy sisters breathed around.
Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part III.
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
The great farm house of Malcolm Graem stood
Square shoulder'd and peak roof'd upon a hill,
Amelia Jane
© David McKee Wright
In the lands away beyond the sea, where Khan and Sultan rule,
Where they drink their coffee thick and black, and sip the sherbet cool,
They have white Circassian girls for slaves, as well as the Negro black;
And it seems to me in our free land that slavery's coming back:
It's fenced about with custom and law, and they give it a prettier name.
But, spite of the paltry wage that's paid, it's slavery all the same.
Drunken Morning
© Arthur Rimbaud
Oh, my Beautiful! Oh, my Good!
Hideous fanfare where
yet I do not stumble!
Oh, rack of enchantments!
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book X - Karna-Badha - (Fall Of Karna)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
After the death of Karna, Salya led the Kuru troops on the eighteenth
and last day of the war, and fell. A midnight slaughter in the Pandav
camp, perpetrated by the vengeful son of Drona, concludes the war.
Duryodhan, left wounded by Bhima, heard of the slaughter and died
happy.
The Parsonage Improved
© Henry James Pye
Where gentle Deva's lucid waters glide
In slow meanders thro' the winding vale,
AN ELEGY Upon the immature loss of the most vertuous Lady Anne Rich
© Henry King
I envy not thy mortal triumphs, Death,
(Thou enemy to Vertue as to Breath)
Nor do I wonder much, nor yet complain
The weekly numbers by thy arrow slain.
Amor Vitae
© Archibald Lampman
I love the warm bare earth and all
That works and dreams thereon:
I love the seasons yet to fall:
I love the ages gone,
Wherefore
© Madison Julius Cawein
I would not see, yet must behold
The truth they preach in church and hall;
And question so,--Is death then all,
And life an idle tale that's told?
The Shepherd O The Farm
© William Barnes
Oh! I be shepherd o' the farm,
Wi' tinklèn bells an' sheep-dog's bark,
An' wi' my crook a-thirt my eärm,
Here I do rove below the lark.
Bianca's Dream - A Venetian Story
© Thomas Hood
BIANCA!fair Bianca!who could dwell
With safety on her dark and hazel gaze,
The Giants Ring
© Robinson Jeffers
BALLYLESSON, NEAR BELFAST
Whoever is able will pursue the plainly
AN ELEGY Upon my Best Friend L. K. C.
© Henry King
Should we our Sorrows in this Method range,
Oft as Misfortune doth their Subjects change,
And to the sev'ral Losses which befall,
Pay diff'rent Rites at ev'ry Funeral;
The South Country
© Hilaire Belloc
When I am living in the Midlands
That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
My work is left behind;
And the great hills of the South Country
Come back into my mind.
Ismael
© Madison Julius Cawein
So from the mosque, whose arabesques above--
The marvellous work of Oriental love--
Seen with new splendors of Heaven's blue and gold,
Applauding all, he, as the gates are rolled
Ogival back to let the many forth,
Cries war to all the unbelieving North.
