Work poems
/ page 285 of 355 /The Dwarves
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Loke sat and thought, till his dark eyes gleam
With joy at the deed he'd done;
When Sif looked into the crystal stream,
Her courage was wellnigh gone.
Street Cries
© Sidney Lanier
Oft seems the Time a market-town
Where many merchant-spirits meet
Who up and down and up and down
Cry out along the street
Rose-Morals
© Sidney Lanier
Would that my songs might be
What roses make by day and night --
Distillments of my clod of misery
Into delight.
Owl Against Robin
© Sidney Lanier
Frowning, the owl in the oak complained him
Sore, that the song of the robin restrained him
Wrongly of slumber, rudely of rest.
"From the north, from the east, from the south and the west,
The Forest Sanctuary - Part I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
I.
The voices of my home!-I hear them still!
Napoleon
© George Meredith
Alive in marble, she conceived in soul,
With barren eyes and mouth, the mother's loss;
The bolt from her abandoned heaven sped;
The snowy army rolling knoll on knoll
Beyond horizon, under no blest Cross:
By the vulture dotted and engarlanded.
When Pa Comes Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
When Pa comes home, I'm at the door,
An' then he grabs me off the floor
Hymns Of The Marshes.
© Sidney Lanier
I have waked, I have come, my beloved! I might not abide:
I have come ere the dawn, O beloved, my live-oaks, to hide
In your gospelling glooms, -- to be
As a lover in heaven, the marsh my marsh and the sea my sea.
Clover
© Sidney Lanier
Inscribed to the Memory of John Keats.Dear uplands, Chester's favorable fields,
My large unjealous Loves, many yet one --
A grave good-morrow to your Graces, all,
Fair tilth and fruitful seasons!
Barnacles
© Sidney Lanier
My soul is sailing through the sea,
But the Past is heavy and hindereth me.
The Past hath crusted cumbrous shells
That hold the flesh of cold sea-mells
A Florida Sunday.
© Sidney Lanier
From cold Norse caves or buccaneer Southern seas
Oft come repenting tempests here to die;
Bewailing old-time wrecks and robberies,
They shrive to priestly pines with many a sigh,
A Florida Ghost.
© Sidney Lanier
Down mildest shores of milk-white sand,
By cape and fair Floridian bay,
Twixt billowy pines -- a surf asleep on land --
And the great Gulf at play,
Nine From Eight
© Sidney Lanier
I was drivin' my two-mule waggin,
With a lot o' truck for sale,
Towards Macon, to git some baggin'
(Which my cotton was ready to bale),
To A Fallen Elm
© John Clare
Old Elm that murmured in our chimney top
The sweetest anthem autumn ever made
And into mellow whispering calms would drop
When showers fell on thy many coloured shade
Remembrances
© John Clare
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one
And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh on
I tried to call them back but unbidden they are gone
Far away from heart and eye and for ever far away
The Parisian Orgy
© Arthur Rimbaud
O cowards! There she is!
Pile out into the stations!
The sun with its fiery lungs blew clear
the boulevards that, one evening,
the Barbarians filled.
Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken
© Henry Francis Lyte
Jesus, I my cross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee.
Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shall be.
Perish every fond ambition, all Ive sought or hoped or known.
Yet how rich is my condition! God and heaven are still mine own.
Invitation To The Redbreast
© William Cowper
Sweet bird, whom the winter constrains--
And seldom another it can--
Exhortation: Summer 1919
© Claude McKay
Through the pregnant universe rumbles life's terrific thunder,
And Earth's bowels quake with terror; strange and terrible storms break,
Lightning-torches flame the heavens, kindling souls of men, thereunder:
Africa! long ages sleeping, O my motherland, awake!