Work poems
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Governors On Sominex
© David Berman
P.K. was in the precinct house, using his one phone call
to dedicate a song to Tammy, for she was the light
by which he traveled into this and that
Snow
© David Berman
I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow.
For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels
had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground.
The Patriot Engineer
© George Meredith
'Sirs! may I shake your hands?
My countrymen, I see!
I've lived in foreign lands
Till England's Heaven to me.
A hearty shake will do me good,
And freshen up my sluggish blood.'
The Transparent Man
© Anthony Evan Hecht
I'm mighty glad to see you, Mrs. Curtis,
And thank you very kindly for this visit--
Especially now when all the others here
Are having holiday visitors, and I feel
Lizards And Snakes
© Anthony Evan Hecht
On the summer road that ran by our front porch
Lizards and snakes came out to sun.
It was hot as a stove out there, enough to scorch
A buzzard's foot. Still, it was fun
Decaying Lambskins
© Robinson Jeffers
After all, we also stand on a height. Our blood and our culture
have passed the flood-marks of any world
Three Palinodias.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Beginning, rudely, I admit,
To treat the lady with a text.
To this she hearken'd not at all,
But hasten'd to his principal:
"None are so wise, they say, as you,--
Is not the world enough for two?
Good Templars' Song
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
O Good Templars!
There's work for us to-day.
Then gird your armor on again,
And only pause to pray.
The Dilettante And The Critic.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
A BOY a pigeon once possess'd,
In gay and brilliant plumage dress'd;
He loved it well, and in boyish sport
Its food to take from his mouth he taught,
And in his pigeon he took such pride,
That his joy to others he needs must confide.
The Fool's Epilogue.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
MANY good works I've done and ended,
Ye take the praise--I'm not offended;
For in the world, I've always thought
Each thing its true position hath sought.
Response
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Beside that milestone where the level sun,
Nigh unto setting, sheds his last, low rays
The Treasure-digger
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
ALL my weary days I pass'dSick at heart and poor in purse.Poverty's the greatest curse,Riches are the highest good!
And to end my woes at last,Treasure-seeking forth I sped."Thou shalt have my soul instead!"Thus I wrote, and with my blood.Ring round ring I forthwith drew,Wondrous flames collected there,Herbs and bones in order fair,Till the charm had work'd aright.
Then, to learned precepts true,Dug to find some treasure old,In the place my art foretoldBlack and stormy was the night.Coming o'er the distant plain,With the glimmer of a star,Soon I saw a light afar,As the hour of midnight knell'd.
Preparation was in vain.Sudden all was lighted upWith the lustre of a cupThat a beauteous boy upheld.Sweetly seem'd his eves to laughNeath his flow'ry chaplet's load;With the drink that brightly glow'd,He the circle enter'd in.
A Retrospective Review
© Thomas Hood
Oh, when I was a tiny boy,
My days and nights were full of joy,
My mates were blithe and kind!
No wonder that I sometimes sigh,
And dash the tear-drop from my eye,
To cast a look behind!
The Visit.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
While at work had slumber stolen o'er her;
For her knitting and her needle found I
Resting in her folded bands so tender;
And I placed myself beside her softly,
And held counsel, whether I should wake her.
Occasion'd By Reading The Memoirs Of Anne Of Austria
© Mary Barber
Ye heedless Fair, who pass the live--long Day,
In Dress and Scandal, Gallantry and Play;
Who thro' new Scenes of Pleasure hourly run,
Whilst Life's important Business is undone;
Look here, when guilty Conquests make you vain,
And see, how sad Remorse shuts up the Scene.
Hans Sachs' Poetical Mission.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Soon as the spring-sun meets his view,
Repose begets him labour anew;
He feels that he holds within his brain
A little world, that broods there amain,
And that begins to act and to live,
Which he to others would gladly give.
Water-bailing
© Ho Xuan Huong
Not a drop of rain for this dry heat!
Come, girls, let's go bail water.
What Matters It?
© George Frederick Cameron
What matters it the spot we fill
On Earth's green sod when all is said?
When feet and hands and heart are still
And all our pulses quieted?
When hate or love can kill nor thrill,
When we are done with life and dead?
Two Sisters Of Persephone
© Sylvia Plath
Two girls there are : within the house
One sits; the other, without.
Daylong a duet of shade and light
Plays between these.
