Work poems
/ page 81 of 355 /
ElegyXI: The Bracelet
© John Donne
NOT that in colour it was like thy hair,
For armlets of that thou mayst let me wear ;
To The Lord Falkland
© Abraham Cowley
FOR HIS SAFE RETURN FROM THE NORTHERN
EXPEDITION AGAINST THE SCOTS.
Anticipation, October 1803
© William Wordsworth
SHOUT, for a mighty Victory is won!
On British ground the Invaders are laid low;
The Golden Age
© Alfred Austin
Nor this the worst! When ripened Shame would hide
Fruits of that hour when Passion conquered Pride,
There are not wanting in this Christian land
The breast remorseless and the Thuggish hand,
To advertise the dens where Death is sold,
And quench the breath of baby-life for gold!
Arabian Night's Entertainments
© William Ernest Henley
Once on a time
There was a little boy: a master-mage
Gotham - Book I
© Charles Churchill
Far off (no matter whether east or west,
A real country, or one made in jest,
Year After Year: A Love Song.
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
YEAR after year the cowslips fill the meadow,
Year after year the skylarks thrill the air,
Year after year, in sunshine or in shadow,
Rolls the world round, love, and finds us as we were.
Our Saviours Boyhood
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
With what a flood of wondrous thoughts
Each Christian breast must swell
When, wandering back through ages past,
With simple faith they dwell
On quiet Nazareths sacred sod,
Where the Child Saviours footsteps trod.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 03
© Torquato Tasso
XXVI
"Turks, Persians conquered, Antiochia won,
The Centennial Year
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
A Hundred years and she had sat, a queen
Sheltering her children, opening wide her gates
To all the inflowing tribes of earth. At first
Storms raged around her; but her stumbling feet
Bourke's Dream
© Anonymous
I dreamt I was homeward, back over the mountain track,
With joy my mother fainted and gave a loud scream.
With the shock I awoke, just as the day had broke,
And found myself an exile, and 'twas all but a dream.
An Urban Convalescence
© James Merrill
As usual in New York, everything is torn down
Before you have had time to care for it.
Head bowed, at the shrine of noise, let me try to recall
What building stood here. Was there a building at all?
I have lived on this same street for a decade.
And So To-Day
© Carl Sandburg
And so to-day--they lay him away--
the boy nobody knows the name of--
the buck private--the unknown soldier--
the doughboy who dug under and died
when they told him to--that's him.
To Alexander H. Stephens
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Through thy frail form, there burn divinely strong
The antique virtues of a worthier day;
Thy soul is golden, if thy head be gray,
No years can work that lofty nature wrong;
They set to concords of ethereal song
A life grown holier on its heavenward way.
Mrs. Malone And The Censor
© Edgar Albert Guest
When Mrs. Malone got a letter from Pat
She started to read it aloud in her flat.
A Psalm Of Councel
© Joseph Furphy
Though some good folks may take it ill,
As trifling with parsonic frill,
The Friend of Humanity and the Knife-grinder
© George Canning
"Needy Knife-grinder! whither are you going?
Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order-
Bleak blows the blast;-your hat has got a hole in't,
So have your breeches!
Lycus the Centaur
© Thomas Hood
FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS
(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.
© Matthew Prior
Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.
