Work poems
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The Moon In Silver Glory Shone
© John Newton
The moon in silver glory shone,
And not a cloud in sight;
When suddenly a shade begun
To intercept her light.
Procemion.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHAT God would outwardly alone control,
And on his finger whirl the mighty Whole?
He loves the inner world to move, to view
Nature in Him, Himself in Nature too,
So that what in Him works, and is, and lives,
The measure of His strength, His spirit gives.
It's September
© Edgar Albert Guest
It's September, and the orchards are afire with red and gold,
And the nights with dew are heavy, and the morning's sharp with cold;
Now the garden's at its gayest with the salvia blazing red
And the good old-fashioned asters laughing at us from their bed;
Once again in shoes and stockings are the children's little feet,
And the dog now does his snoozing on the bright side of the street.
At Darien Bridge
© James Dickey
Standing deep in their ankle chains,
Ankle-deep in the water, to smite
Sonnet VIII.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
You were not born to hide such gifts as yours
'Neath dreary law-books, nor amid the dust
And dry routine of desks to sit and rust
Where clerks plod through their tasks on office-floors.
A Quarrel With Love
© Nicholas Breton
Oh that I could write a story
Of love's dealing with affection!
How he makes the spirit sorry
That is touch'd with his infection.
On The Marriage Of The Lady Gwendolin Talbot With The Eldest Son Of Prince Borghese
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Lady! to decorate thy marriage morn,
Rare gems, and flowers, and lofty songs are brought;
Thou the plain utterance of a Poet's thought,
Thyself at heart a Poet, wilt not scorn:
The Toast
© Virna Sheard
A toast to thee, 0 dear old year,
While the last moments fly,
A toast to thy sweet memory--
We'll lift the glasses high,
And bid to thee a fond farewell
As thou art passing by!
Ode on Intimations of Immortality
© William Wordsworth
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
In The Willow Shade
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I sat beneath a willow tree,
Where water falls and calls;
While fancies upon fancies solaced me,
Some true, and some were false.
In Progress
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Ten years ago it seemed impossible
That she should ever grow so calm as this,
With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss
And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well.
On Promising Fruitfulness of a Tree
© John Bunyan
A comely sight indeed it is to see
A world of blossoms on an apple-tree:
The Fruit Rancher
© Lloyd Roberts
He sees the rosy apples cling like flowers to the bough:
He plucks the purple plums and spills the cherries on the grass;
He wanted peace and silence,God gives him plenty now
His feet upon the mountain and his shadow on the pass.
The Southerly Buster
© Henry Lawson
There's a wind that blows out of the South in the drought,
And we pray for the touch of his breath
Cousin Kate
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I was a cottage maiden
Hardened by sun and air
Contented with my cottage mates,
Not mindful I was fair.
Reynard the Fox - Part 1
© John Masefield
Poor Polly's dying struck him queer,
He was a darkened man thereafter,
Cowed, silent, he would wince at laughter
And be so gentle it was strange
Even to see. Life loves to change.
A Birthday
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
After An Old Legend
© George MacDonald
The monk was praying in his cell,
With bowed head praying sore;
He had been praying on his knees
For two long hours and more.
