Work poems

 / page 340 of 355 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Rome: Building a New Street in the Ancient Quarter

© Thomas Hardy

These numbered cliffs and gnarls of masonry
Outskeleton Time's central city, Rome;
Whereof each arch, entablature, and dome
Lies bare in all its gaunt anatomy.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Sleep-Worker

© Thomas Hardy

When wilt thou wake, O Mother, wake and see -
As one who, held in trance, has laboured long
By vacant rote and prepossession strong -
The coils that thou hast wrought unwittingly;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Heiress And Architect

© Thomas Hardy

SHE sought the Studios, beckoning to her side
An arch-designer, for she planned to build.
He was of wise contrivance, deeply skilled
In every intervolve of high and wide--
Well fit to be her guide.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Two Men

© Thomas Hardy

THERE were two youths of equal age,
Wit, station, strength, and parentage;
They studied at the self-same schools,
And shaped their thoughts by common rules.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Doom and She

© Thomas Hardy

There dwells a mighty pair -
Slow, statuesque, intense -
Amid the vague Immense:
None can their chronicle declare,
Nor why they be, nor whence.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

A Man (In Memory of H. of M.)

© Thomas Hardy

In Casterbridge there stood a noble pile,
Wrought with pilaster, bay, and balustrade
In tactful times when shrewd Eliza swayed. -
On burgher, squire, and clown
It smiled the long street down for near a mile

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Fire At Tranter Sweatley's

© Thomas Hardy

She cried, "O pray pity me!" Nought would he hear;
Then with wild rainy eyes she obeyed,
She chid when her Love was for clinking off wi' her.
The pa'son was told, as the season drew near
To throw over pu'pit the names of the peäir
As fitting one flesh to be made.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Last Chrysanthemum

© Thomas Hardy

Why should this flower delay so long
To show its tremulous plumes?
Now is the time of plaintive robin-song,
When flowers are in their tombs.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Tess's Lament

© Thomas Hardy

I I would that folk forgot me quite,
Forgot me quite!
I would that I could shrink from sight,
And no more see the sun.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

(As sung by Mr. Charles Charrington in the play of "The Three Wayfarers")

© Thomas Hardy

O MY trade it is the rarest one,
Simple shepherds all--
My trade is a sight to see;
For my customers I tie, and take 'em up on high,
And waft 'em to a far countree!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

My Cicely

© Thomas Hardy

"ALIVE?"--And I leapt in my wonder,
Was faint of my joyance,
And grasses and grove shone in garments
Of glory to me.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Dance At The Phoenix

© Thomas Hardy

To Jenny came a gentle youth
From inland leazes lone;
His love was fresh as apple-blooth
By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

In The Moonlight

© Thomas Hardy

"O lonely workman, standing there
In a dream, why do you stare and stare
At her grave, as no other grave where there?"

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Church-Builder

© Thomas Hardy

The church flings forth a battled shade
Over the moon-blanched sward:
The church; my gift; whereto I paid
My all in hand and hoard;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Moments Of Vision

© Thomas Hardy

That mirror
Which makes of men a transparency,
Who holds that mirror
And bids us such a breast-bare spectacle see
Of you and me?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Ruined Maid

© Thomas Hardy

"O 'Melia, my dear, this does everything crown!
Who could have supposed I should meet you in Town?
And whence such fair garments, such prosperi-ty?
O didn't you know I'd been ruined?" said she.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Man He Killed

© Thomas Hardy

Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have set us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

A Chorus

© Elizabeth Jennings

Kept, in the resignation of old men -
This spirit, this power, this holder together of space
Is about, is aware, is working in your breathing.
But most he is the need that shows in hunger
And in the tears shed in the lonely fastness.
And in sorrow after anger.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Jump Cabling

© Linda Pastan

When our cars touched
When you lifted the hood of mine
To see the intimate workings underneath,
When we were bound together

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To The Students Of The Workers' And Peasants' Faculty

© Bertolt Brecht

So there you sit. And how much blood was shed
That you might sit there. Do such stories bore you?
Well, don't forget that others sat before you
who later sat on people. Keep your head!