Work poems

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Book Sixth [Cambridge and the Alps]

© William Wordsworth

A passing word erewhile did lightly touch
On wanderings of my own, that now embraced
With livelier hope a region wider far.

Paradise Lost : Book XII.

© John Milton

As one who in his journey bates at noon,

Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused

To The Author Of Glare

© David Lehman

There comes a time when the story turns into twenty
different stories and soon after that he academy of shadows
retreats to the cave of a solitary boy in a thriving

Conditions of Living

© Benjamin Jonson

Living a whole life has three conditions:
absorbing work which demands and brings fulfilment,
a group of friends with whom to exchange minds,
and a full love to be lost in all the time.

My Boating Song

© Horace Smith

Hurrah, boys, or losing or winning,
Feel your stretchers and make the blades bend;
Hard on to it, catch the beginning,
And pull it clean through to the end.

December 7

© David Lehman

As I sit at my desk wishing
I did not have to edit a book
on poetry and painting a
subject that fascinates me

April 21

© David Lehman

I'm a very average person,
and I think most people are.
I vote with the common man.
I have two kids, a boy and a girl.

Hermann And Dorothea - IV. Euterpe

"Mother," he said in confusion:--"You greatly surprise me!" and quickly
Wiped he away his tears, the noble and sensitive youngster.
"What! You are weeping, my son?" the startled mother continued
"That is indeed unlike you! I never before saw you crying!
Say, what has sadden'd your heart? What drives you to sit here all lonely
Under the shade of the pear-tree? What is it that makes you unhappy?"

Big Hair

© David Lehman

Ithaca, October 1993: Jorie went on a lingerie
tear, wanting to look like a moll
in a Chandler novel. Dinner, consisting of three parts gin
and one part lime juice cordial, was a prelude to her hair.
There are, she said, poems that can be written
only when the poet is clad in black underwear.

A Mate can do no Wrong

© Henry Lawson

We learnt the creed at Hungerford,

We learnt the creed at Bourke;

You Gote-heard Gods

© Sir Philip Sidney

You Gote-heard Gods, that loue the grassie mountaines,
You Nimphes that haunt the springs in pleasant vallies,
You Satyrs ioyde with free and quiet forests,
Vouchsafe your silent eares to playning musique,
Which to my woes giues still an early morning;
And drawes the dolor on till wery euening.

The Third Satire Of Dr. John Donne

Compassion checks my spleen, yet Scorn denies
The tears a passage thro' my swelling eyes;
To laugh or weep at sins, might idly show,
Unheedful passion, or unfruitful woe.
Satyr! arise, and try thy sharper ways,
If ever Satyr cur'd an old disease.

Psalm Concerning The Castle

Let me be at the place of the castle.

Let the castle be within me.

Astrophel and Stella VII

When Nature made her chief work, Stella's eyes,In colour black why wrapt she beams so bright?Would she in beamy black, like painter wise,Frame daintiest lustre, mix'd of shades and light?Or did she else that sober hue devise,In object best to knit and strength our sight;Lest, if no veil these brave gleams did disguise,They, sunlike, should more dazzle than delight?Or would she her miraculous power show,That, whereas black seems beauty's contrary,She even in black doth make all beauties flow?Both so, and thus,--she, minding Love should bePlac'd ever there, gave him this mourning weedTo honour all their deaths who for her bleed