Work poems
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Songs From Prince Lucifer I - Grave-Diggers Song
© Alfred Austin
THE CRAB, the bullace, and the sloe,
They burgeon in the Spring;
Everywhere In America
© Edgar Albert Guest
Not somewhere in America, but everywhere to-day,
Where snow-crowned mountains hold their heads,
The Centurion
© Clive Sansom
'Halt! Here's the place. Set down the cross.
You three attend to it. And remember, Marcus,
The blows are struck, the nails are driven
For Roman law and Roman order,
Not for your private satisfaction.
Set to work.'
Honours -- Part I
© Jean Ingelow
To strive-and fail. Yes, I did strive and fail;
I set mine eyes upon a certain night
To find a certain star-and could not hail
With them its deep-set light.
Il Y A Cent Ans
© George Meredith
That march of the funereal Past behold;
How Glory sat on Bondage for its throne;
How men, like dazzled insects, through the mould
Still worked their way, and bled to keep their own.
The Important Thing
© Edgar Albert Guest
He was playing in the garden when we called him in for tea,
But he didn't seem to hear us, so I went out there to see
What the little rogue was up to, and I stooped and asked him why,
When he heard his mother calling, he had made her no reply.
"I am playing war," he told me, "and I'm up against defeat,
And until I stop the Germans I can't take the time to eat."
The Idle Shepherd Boys
© William Wordsworth
The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among the hills the echoes play
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
The Centennial Cantata.
© Sidney Lanier
Mayflower, Mayflower, slowly hither flying,
Trembling westward o'er yon balking sea,
Hearts within `Farewell dear England' sighing,
Winds without `But dear in vain' replying,
Gray-lipp'd waves about thee shouted, crying
"No! It shall not be!"
Morals Of Desperation
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE man who's wholly ruined, sir, fears nothing;
How can he when all's lost to him already?
There is a desperate gayety which comes
To buoy one up in such a strait as this;
Clare's Dragoons
© Thomas Osborne Davis
_Viva la_, for Ireland's wrong!
_Viva la_, for Ireland's right!
_Viva la_, in battle throng,
For a Spanish steed, and sabre bright!
Suicide
© William Ernest Henley
Staring corpselike at the ceiling,
See his harsh, unrazored features,
Ghastly brown against the pillow,
And his throat-so strangely bandaged!
Epigram I
© John Byrom
Nor Steel, nor Flint alone produces fire;
No spark arises till they both conspire:
Nor Faith alone, nor work without is right;
Salvation rises, when they both unite.
The Disciple
© Jones Very
Thou wilt my hands employ, though others find
No work for those who praise thy name aright;
Idyll XV. The Festival of Adonis
© Theocritus
PRAXINOAe.
Yes, Gorgo dear! At last!
That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair,
A cushion, Eunoae!
Phillis 02
© Thomas Lodge
LOVE guards the roses of thy lips
And flies about them like a bee;
If I approach he forward skips,
And if I kiss he stingeth me.
Antony Villa
© Henry Lawson
And the daughters of the Vardensthey are beautiful as Graces
But the balconys deserted, and they rarely show their faces;
And the swells of their acquaintance never seem to venture near them,
And the bailiff says they seldom have a cup of tea to cheer them.
