All Poems
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The Ballad of the "Britain's Pride"
© William Watson
It was a skipper of Lowestoft
That trawled the northern sea,
Roses
© Edgar Albert Guest
When God first viewed the rose He'd made
He smiled, and thought it passing fair;
Port Of Many Ships
© John Masefield
It's a sunny pleasant anchorage is Kingdom Come
Where the crew is always layin' aft with double-tots o' rum
'N' there's dancin' and there's fiddlin' of ev'ry kind o' sort
It's a fine place for sailormen is that there port.
'N' I wish --
I wish as I was there.
Casey's Table D'Hote
© Eugene Field
Oh, them days on Red Hoss Mountain, when the skies wuz fair 'nd blue,
When the money flowed like likker, 'nd the folks wuz brave 'nd true!
Dream Song 172
© John Berryman
Your face broods from my table, Suicide.
Your force came on like a torrent toward the end
of agony and wrath.
You were christened in the beginning Sylvia Plath
and changed that name for Mrs Hughes and bred
and went on round the bend
Song. "Yet once again, but once, before we sever"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Yet once again, but once, before we sever,
Fill we one brimming cup,it is the last!
I like you calm, as if you were absent
© Pablo Neruda
I like you calm, as if you were absent,
and you hear me far-off, and my voice does not touch you.
It seems that your eyelids have taken to flying:
it seems that a kiss has sealed up your mouth.
Ode to Duty
© William Wordsworth
. Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
St. Anthony The Reformer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
No fear lest praise should make us proud!
We know how cheaply that is won;
The idle homage of the crowd
Is proof of tasks as idly done.
The Maranoa Drovers
© Anonymous
The night is dark and stormy, and the sky is clouded o'er;
Our horses we will mount and ride away,
To watch the squatters' cattle through the darkness of the night,
And we'll keep them on the camp till break of day.
I Make This In A Warring Absence
© Dylan Thomas
I make a weapon of an ass's skeleton
And walk the warring sands by the dead town.
Cudgel great air, wreck east, and topple sundown,
Storm her sped heart, hang with beheaded veins
Its wringing shell, and let her eyelids fasten.
Destruction, picked by birds, brays through the jaw-bone,
To The Immortal Memory Of The Halibut, On Which I Dined This Day, Monday, April 26, 1784
© William Cowper
Where hast thou floated, in what seas pursued
Thy pastime? When wast thou an egg new spawned,
Lost in the immensity of ocean's waste?
Roar as they might, the overbearing winds
The Persevering Tortoise And The Pretentious Hare
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
And THE MORAL (lest you miss one)
Is: There's often time to spare,
And that races are (like this one)
Won not always by a hair.
Ernestness
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The hurry of the times affects us so
In this swift rushing hour, we crowd and press
And thrust each other backward as we go,
And do not pause to lay sufficient stress
Relic
© Ted Hughes
I found this jawbone at the sea's edge:
There, crabs, dogfish, broken by the breakers or tossed
To flap for half an hour and turn to a crust
Continue the beginning. The deeps are cold:
In that darkness camaraderie does not hold.
A Song In Passing
© Yvor Winters
Where am I now? And what
Am I to say portends?
Death is but death, and not
The most obtuse of ends.
Elegy XV: A Tale of a Citizen and his Wife
© John Donne
I SING no harm, good sooth, to any wight,
To lord or fool, cuckold, beggar, or knight,
