Work poems
/ page 278 of 355 /
John Farrell
© George Essex Evans
The pen falls from his nerveless hand,
The light is fading from his eyes,
To The Proof Room
© Bert Leston Taylor
"O MEN of dark and dismal fate,"
A prey to typographic terrors,
O you who labor long and late,
Correcting other people's errors --
Think not I do not realize
How much I owe your Argus-eyes.
Wha Is That At My Bower-Door
© Robert Burns
"Wha is that at my bower-door?"
"O wha is it but Findlay!"
Anactoria
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
MY LIFE is bitter with thy love; thine eyes
Blind me, thy tresses burn me, thy sharp sighs
Ode to Meditation
© Mary Darby Robinson
SWEET CHILD OF REASON! maid serene;
With folded arms, and pensive mien,
Who wand'ring near yon thorny wild,
So oft, my length'ning hours beguil'd;
Lines inscribed to P. de Loutherbourg, Esq. R. A.
© Mary Darby Robinson
WHERE on the bosom of the foamy RHINE,
In curling waves the rapid waters shine;
Where tow'ring cliffs in awful grandeur rise,
And midst the blue expanse embrace the skies;
January, 1795
© Mary Darby Robinson
Pavement slipp'ry, people sneezing,
Lords in ermine, beggars freezing ;
Titled gluttons dainties carving,
Genius in a garret starving.
Epitaph For Joseph Blackett, Late Poet And Shoemaker
© George Gordon Byron
Stranger! behold, interr'd together,
The souls of learning and of leather.
Poor Joe is gone, but left his all:
You'll find his relics in a stall.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VIII - Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis
© Robert Browning
(Virgil, now, should not be too difficult
To Cinoncino,say the early books . . .
Pen, truce to further gambols! Poscimur!)
The Promise of Sleep
© Amy Levy
Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind,
The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee--but thou shalt find
Thy rest
A Humble Appeal
© Jessie Pope
SHE was a pretty, nicely mannered mare,
The children's pet, the master's pride and care,
Until a man in khaki came one day,
Looked at her teeth, and hurried her away.
I've Been Working So Hard
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I've been working so hard you just wouldn't believe,
And I'm tired!
There's so little time and so much to achieve,
And I'm tired!
A Minor Poet
© Amy Levy
"What should such fellows as I do,
Crawling between earth and heaven?"
Here is the phial; here I turn the key
Sharp in the lock. Click!--there's no doubt it turned.
