Work poems
/ page 231 of 355 /
Paradise Lost : Book VIII.
© John Milton
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he a while
The Workbox
© Thomas Hardy
See, here's the workbox, little wife,
That I made of polished oak.'
He was a joiner, of village life;
She came of borough folk.
Idyll XXII. The Sons of Leda
© Theocritus
He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew
His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine
Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long,
Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too,
The peerless in the lists, went forth and called
From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all.
A Legend of Bregenz
© Adelaide Anne Procter
GIRT round with rugged mountains the fair Lake Constance lies;
In her blue heart reflected, shine back the starry skies;
And, watching each white cloudlet float silently and slow,
You think a piece of heaven lies on our earth below!
The Lady of the Lake: Canto I. - The Chase
© Sir Walter Scott
Introduction.
Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung
Outcast
© Ada Cambridge
And their accuser? She within the fold
That walks in light, bejewelled and belaced,
Who in cold blood, and not for love or need,
Sold the white flower of womanhood for gold;
The wedded harlot, rich and undisgraced,
The viler prostitute in mind and deed.
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Second
© William Wordsworth
THE Harp in lowliness obeyed;
And first we sang of the greenwood shade
And a solitary Maid;
Beginning, where the song must end,
The Hymn of the Socialists
© Henry Lawson
By the rights that were always ours the rights that we neer enjoyed,
And the gloomy cloud that lowers on the brow of the unemployed;
By the struggling mothers and wives by girls in the streets of sin
We swear to strike when the time arrives, for our kind and our kith and kin!
The Fifty-Per-Cent Man
© Edgar Albert Guest
He limped into the place one day, a leg and arm were gone,
"Just half a man," he told the boss, "right now you look upon.
An accident did this to me, 'twere better had I died,
It robbed me of efficiency, but left me with my pride."
Enoch Arden
© Alfred Tennyson
At length she spoke `O Enoch, you are wise;
And yet for all your wisdom well know I
That I shall look upon your face no more.'
A Tennyson Fragment
© Robert Fuller Murray
And on that night he made a little song,
And called his song `The Song of Twist and Plug,'
And sang it; scarcely could he make or sing.
Doc Sifers
© James Whitcomb Riley
Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this-'ere town
Doc Sifers is my favorite, jes' take him up and down!
Count in the Bethel Neighberhood, and Rollins, and Big Bear,
And Sifers' standin's jes' as good as ary doctor's there!
Sea Dreams
© Alfred Tennyson
`Not fearful; fair,'
Said the good wife, `if every star in heaven
Can make it fair: you do but bear the tide.
Had you ill dreams?'
The Mother Mary
© George MacDonald
Mary, to thee the heart was given
For infant hand to hold,
And clasp thus, an eternal heaven,
The great earth in its fold.
An Account Of The Greatest English Poets
© Joseph Addison
Blest Man! whose spotless Life and Charming Lays
Employ'd the Tuneful Prelate in thy Praise:
Blest Man! who now shall be for ever known
In Sprat's successful Labours and thy own.
The Highland Broach
© William Wordsworth
If to Tradition faith be due,
And echoes from old verse speak true,
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 10:
© Conrad Aiken
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees
The soft blue starlight through the one small window,
The moon above black trees, and clouds, and Venus,
And turns to write . . . The clock, behind ticks softly.
