Work poems

/ page 330 of 355 /

Order by :

1
. . .
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
. . .
355

Absalom And Achitophel

© John Dryden

Him staggering so when Hell's dire agent found,
While fainting virtue scarce maintain'd her ground,
He pours fresh forces in, and thus replies:

I Will Not Eat My Poem

© Jerome Rothenberg

I kill for pleasure
not for gain.
A man much more
than you my hands

Daft

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

In the warm yellow smile of the morning,
She stands at the lattice pane,
And watches the strong young binders
Stride down to the fields of grain.

Over The Alley

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Here in my office I sit and write
Hour on hour, and day on day,
With no one to speak to from morn till night,
Though I have a neighbour just over the way.

The second morning I had been for half and hour or more
At work on Haydns masses, when a tap came at my door.
A nurse, who wore a dainty cap and apron, and a smile,
Ran down to ask if I would cease my music for awhile.
The lady in the flat above was very ill, she said,
And the sound of my piano was distracting to her head.

In the Long Run

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

In the long run fame finds the deserving man.
The lucky wight may prosper for a day,
But in good time true merit leads the van,
And vain pretense, unnoticed, goes its way.

A Waif

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

My soul is like a poor caged bird to-night,
Beating its wings against the prison bars,
Longing to reach the outer world of light,
And, all untrammelled, soar among the stars.

At The Window

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

At night, when I come from my office down town,
There stands a woman with eyes of brown,
Smiling out through the window blind
At the man who is walking just behind.

Limitless

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

There is nothing, I hold, in the way of work
That a human being may not achieve
If he does not falter, or shrink, or shirk,
And more than all, if he will believe.

Arise

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Why sit ye idly dreaming all the day,
While the golden, precious hours flit away?
See you not the day is waning, waning fast?
That the morn's already vanished in the past?

Custer

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

BOOK FIRST.I.ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy.
Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy
To sing of deeds as dauntless and as brave
As e'er lent luster to a warrior's grave.

Begin The Day

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Begin each morning with a talk to God,
And ask for your divine inheritance
Of usefulness, contentment, and success.
Resign all fear, all doubt, and all despair.

Be Not Weary

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Sometimes, when I am toil-worn and aweary,
And tired out with working long and well,
And earth is dark, and skies above are dreary,
And heart and soul are all too sick to tell,

I Am

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Am
I know not whence I came,
I know not whither I go;
But the fact stands clear that I am here

If

Dear love, if you and I could sail away,
With snowy pennons to the wind unfurled,
Across the waters of some unknown bay,
And find some island far from all the world;

A Holiday

The Husband
Impossible! You women do not know
The toil it takes to make a business grow.
I cannot join you until very late,
So hurry home, nor let the dinner wait.

Individuality

Ah yes, I love you, and with all my heart;
Just as a weaker woman loves her own,
Better than I love my beloved art,
Which, until you came, reigned royally, alone,
My king, my master. Since I saw your face
I have dethroned it, and you hold that place.

To Promise Is One Thing To Keep It, Another

JOHN courts Perrette; but all in vain;
Love's sweetest oaths, and tears, and sighs
All potent spells her heart to gain
The ardent lover vainly tries:

The Spectacles

IN former times was introduced a lad
Among the nuns, and like a maiden clad;
A charming girl by all he was believed;
Fifteen his age; no doubts were then conceived;
Coletta was the name the youth had brought,
And, till he got a beard, was sister thought.