Work poems
/ page 51 of 355 /The Stranger's Song
© 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!
Ode
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Delivered on the first anniversary of the Carolina Art Association, Feb. 10, 1856.
THERE are two worlds wherein our souls may dwell,
With discord, or ethereal music fraught,
One the loud mart wherein men buy and sell
Idylls of the King: The Passing of Arthur (excerpt)
© Alfred Tennyson
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere,
And whiter than the mist that all day long
Had held the field of battle was the King:
Come Home, Father!
© Henry Clay Work
'Tis The
SONG OF LITTLE MARY,
Standing at the bar-room door
While the shameful midnight revel
Rages wildly as before.
Father, dear father, come home with me now!
The Dean Of Santiago
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The Dean of Santiago on his mule
Rode quick the Guadalquivir banks along,
Mediterranean Verses
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
The desert sand at day's swift flight
Drank of the dew--cold vivid night
Where Nile flows as he flowed
When first men reaped and sowed
My Savior, On The Word Of Truth
© Anna Laetitia Waring
My Savior, on the word of truth
In earnest hope I live;
To The Memory Of Mary Young
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
GOD has his plans, and what if we
With our sight be too blind to see
Noon On The Barrier Ranges
© Roderic Quinn
THE saltbush steeped in drowsy stillness lies,
The mulga seems to swoon,
A hawk hangs poised within the burning skies,
And it is noon.
The Reaper's Child
© Charles Lamb
If you go to the field where the reapers now bind
The sheaves of ripe corn, there a fine little lass,
Only three months of age, by the hedge-row you'll find,
Left alone by its mother upon the low grass.
The City of God
© Samuel Johnson
CITY of God, how broad and far
Outspread thy walls sublime!
The true thy chartered freemen are,
Of every age and clime.
Epilogue To Lessing's Laocooen
© Matthew Arnold
One morn as through Hyde Park we walk'd,
My friend and I, by chance we talk'd
The Sparrow
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
A LITTLE bird, with plumage brown,
Beside my window flutters down,
Hymn.The Word Of Promise
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
[Written by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, eldest son of Rev.
ABIEL HOLMES, eighth Pastor of the First Church in
Cambridge, Massachusetts.]
Mostly Slavonic
© Henry Lawson
But they never dreamed, the brainless, boors that used to sneer and scoff,
That the dreamy lad beside themknown as Dutchy Mickyloff
Was a genius and a poet, and a Manno matter which
Was the Czar of all the Russias!Peter Michaelovich.
Fragment: Follow To The Deep Wood's Weeds
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Follow to the deep wood's weeds,
Follow to the wild-briar dingle,
Where we seek to intermingle,
And the violet tells her tale
May, 1918
© John Jay Chapman
Again my eyes upon the night were turned.
The central darkness bloomed, androbed in state
While her great works about her burned
Sate France enthronèd and incoronate!
Toplesstown
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Talk about a hit! They're packed in and linin' up
A cover and a minimum--coffee $2 a cup
Lucy's pullin' down a thousand a week with tips and all
Workin' double shifts while startin' to bitch how
Her arches are beginning to fall.