Work poems
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Speculum Tuscanismi
© Gabriel Harvey
Since Galatea came in, and Tuscanism gan usurp,
Vanity above all: villainy next her, stateliness Empress
Marriage Songs
© George MacDonald
"They have no more wine!" she said.
But they had enough of bread;
And the vessels by the door
Held for thirst a plenteous store:
Yes, enough; but Love divine
Turned the water into wine!
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 3
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Heavn had overturnd the Trojan state
And Priams throne, by too severe a fate;
The Brothers
© William Wordsworth
"THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live
A profitable life: some glance along,
Speranza
© Jean Ingelow
England puts on her purple, and pale, pale
With too much light, the primrose doth but wait
To meet the hyacinth; then bower and dale
Shall lose her and each fairy woodland mate.
April forgets them, for their utmost sum
Of gift was silent, and the birds are come.
Sojourning and Wandering
© Padraic Colum
AUTUMN
A GOOD stay-at-home season is Autumn: then there's
work to be joined in by all:
Though the fawns, where the brackens make covert, may range away undeterred,
The stags that were lone upon hillocks now give heed to the call,
To the bellowing call of the hinds, and they draw back to the herd.
The Harpers Story
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
My pretty ladies, mid this Christmas cheer,
Loth though I am to wake a single tear
The Freeborn
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
God made the man and bid him multiply,
Replenish the green earth, nor break the die
De Te
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
A burning glass of burnished brass,
The calm sea caught the noontide rays,
The Lord of the Isles: Canto II.
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board!
The Drone
© Gamaliel Bradford
I might have been a worker, but I'm nothing but a drone.
I tell my idle stories in a philosophic tone.
In a fuzzy, spiny mantle of remoteness softly furled
I lie and watch with half-shut eyes the stupefying world.
Mad River, In The White Mountains
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
TRAVELLER
Why dost thou wildly rush and roar,
Mad River, O Mad River?
Wilt thou not pause and cease to pour
Thy hurrying, headlong waters o'er
This rocky shelf forever?
An Armour of proofe, brought from The Tower of Dauid, to fight agaynst Spannyardes
© Roger Cotton
When God of hosts in eighty eight had brought,
an host of men, our Countrey to annoy:
in that distresse the Lord by vs was sought,
whereby our woes were turned then to ioy.
But yet full true to vs may this be sayde,
in your distresse, you onely seeke my ayde.
In The Black Rock Tavern by Judith Slater: American Life in Poetry #36 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureat
© Ted Kooser
running a crane on an overhead track in the mill.
Eight hours a day moving ingots into rollers.
Sometimes without a break
because of the bother of getting down.
Never had an accident.
Never hurt anyone. He had that much control.
The Hwomestead A-Vell Into Hand
© William Barnes
The house where I wer born an' bred,
Did own his woaken door, John,
Lydlinch Bells
© William Barnes
When skies wer peäle wi' twinklèn stars,
An' whislèn aïr a-risèn keen;
Agnes
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE KNIGHT
The tale I tell is gospel true,
As all the bookmen know,
And pilgrims who have strayed to view
The wrecks still left to show.
