Work poems
/ page 59 of 355 /Anti-Thelyphthora. A Tale In Verse
© William Cowper
Airy del Castro was as bold a knight
As ever earned a lady's love in fight.
Paradiso (English)
© Dante Alighieri
The glory of Him who moveth everything
Doth penetrate the universe, and shine
In one part more and in another less.
The Axe-Helve
© Robert Frost
I've known ere now an interfering branch
Of alder catch my lifted axe behind me.
The Spagnoletto. Act III
© Emma Lazarus
RIBERA (laying aside his brush).
So! I am weary. Luca, what 's o'clock?
Satan Absolved
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
We have no heart to serve without instructions new.
An Eastern God
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
I saw an Eastern God to-day;
My comrades laughed; lest I betray
Boadicea
© Alfred Tennyson
While about the shore of Mona those Neronian legionaries
Burnt and broke the grove and altar of the Druid and Druidess,
Far in the East Boadicea, standing loftily charioted,
Mad and maddening all that heard her in her fierce volubility,
Girt by half the tribes of Britain, near the colony Camulodune,
Yell'd and shriek'd between her daughters o'er a wild confederacy.
The Naturalist's Summer-Evening Walk
© Gilbert White
To Thomas Pennant, Esquire.
… equidem credo, quia sit divinitus illis
Ingenium. ~ Virgil, Georgics.
The CodeHeroics
© Robert Frost
You didn't know. But James is one big fool.
He thought you meant to find fault with his work.
That's what the average farmer would have meant.
James had to take his time to chew it over
Before he acted; he's just got round to act.
The Wounded
© John Le Gay Brereton
Stupidity and Selfishness and Fear,
Who hold enslaved the intellect of Man,
Have found their victims here.
In War-Time: An Aspiration Of The Spirit
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Lord Jesus, as a little child,
Upon some high ascension day
When a great people goes to pay
Allegiance, and the tumult wild
Rain by Peter Everwine : American Life in Poetry #278 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Peter Everwine is a California poet whose work I have admired for almost as long as I have been writing. Here he beautifully captures a quiet moment of reflection.
Rain
Toward evening, as the light failed
English Eclogues II - The Grandmother's Tale
© Robert Southey
JANE.
Harry! I'm tired of playing. We'll draw round
The fire, and Grandmamma perhaps will tell us
One of her stories.
The Prophecy Of Famine
© Charles Churchill
Still have I known thee for a silly swain;
Of things past help, what boots it to complain?
Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune's spite;
No sky is heavy, if the heart be light:
Patience is sorrow's salve: what can't be cured,
So Donald right areads, must be endured.
Written With A Slate Pencil On A Stone, On The Side Of The Mountain Of Black Comb
© William Wordsworth
STAY, bold Adventurer; rest awhile thy limbs
On this commodious Seat! for much remains
Of hard ascent before thou reach the top
Of this huge Eminence,--from blackness named,
The Change-Worker
© Edgar Albert Guest
A feller don't start in to think of himself, an'
the part that he's playin' down here,
The Old Play
© Kenneth Slessor
I
IN an old play-house, in an old play,
In an old piece that has been done to death,
We dance, kind ladies, noble friends.