Work poems
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Imelda
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
……………….Sometimes
The young forgot the lessons they had learnt,
And lov'd when they should hate, like thee, Imelda! ~ Italy, a Poem
A Dead Harvest [In Kensington Gardens]
© Alice Meynell
Along the graceless grass of town
They rake the rows of red and brown,
Dead leaves, unlike the rows of hay,
Delicate, neither gold nor grey,
Raked long ago and far away.
The Knight of St. John
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Ere down yon blue Carpathian hills
The sun shall sink again,
Farewell to life and all its ills,
Farewell to cell and chain!
The Poetry of A Root Crop
© Charles Kingsley
Underneath their eider-robe
Russet swede and golden globe,
A Dream Of Summer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Bland as the morning breath of June
The southwest breezes play;
The Milk-Maid O The Farm
© William Barnes
O Poll's the milk-maïd o' the farm!
An' Poll's so happy out in groun',
Wi' her white païl below her eärm
As if she wore a goolden crown.
A Fairy Tale In The Ancient English Style
© Thomas Parnell
In Britain's Isle and Arthur's days,
When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze,
The Harvest
© William Rose Benet
Yon lie the fields all golden with grain,
(Oh, come, ye Harvesters, reap!)
An Epistle To An Editor
© Henry Austin Dobson
"We, that are very old" (the phrase
Is STEELE'S, not mine!), in former days,
Have seen so many "new Reviews"
Arise, arraign, absolve, abuse;--
Proclaim their mission to the top
(Where there's still room!), then slowly drop,
Pastorals
© George Meredith
How sweet on sunny afternoons,
For those who journey light and well,
To loiter up a hilly rise
Which hides the prospect far beyond,
And fancy all the landscape lying
Beautiful and still;
The Potato Eaters by Leonard E. Nathan: American Life in Poetry #7 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 20
© Ted Kooser
Leonard Nathan is a master of short poems in which two or three figures are placed on what can be seen to be a stage, as in a drama. Here, as in other poems like it, the speaker's sentences are rich with implications. This is the title work from Nathan's book from Orchises Press (1999):
The Potato Eaters
Sometimes, the naked taste of potato
reminds me of being poor.
Brothers, And A Sermon
© Jean Ingelow
“What, chorus! are you dumb? you should have cried,
‘So good comes out of evil;’” and with that,
As if all pauses it was natural
To seize for songs, his voice broke out again:
Dumbness
© Thomas Traherne
Sure Man was born to meditate on things,
And to contemplate the eternal springs
War
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Ambition, power, and avarice, now have hurled
Death, fate, and ruin, on a bleeding world.
See! on yon heath what countless victims lie,
Hark! what loud shrieks ascend through yonder sky;
Melancholy. A Fragment.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Stretched on a mouldered Abbey's broadest wall,
Where ruining ivies propped the ruins steep--
Her folded arms wrapping her tattered pall,
Had Melancholy mused herself to sleep.
Meditations Upon A Candle
© John Bunyan
Man's like a candle in a candlestick,
Made up of tallow and a little wick;
The Log Jam
© William Henry Drummond
Dere 'a s beeg jam up de reever, w'ere rapide is runnin' fas',
An' de log we cut las' winter is takin' it all de room;
Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 05 - Origins Of Vegetable And Animal Life
© Lucretius
And now to what remains!- Since I've resolved
By what arrangements all things come to pass
