Business poems

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Paradise Regain'd: Book II (1671)

© John Milton

MEan while the new-baptiz'd, who yet remain'dAt Jordan with the Baptist, and had seenHim whom they heard so late expresly call'dJesus Messiah Son of God declar'd,And on that high Authority had believ'd,And with him talkt, and with him lodg'd, I meanAndrew and Simon, famous after knownWith others though in Holy Writ not nam'd,Now missing him thir joy so lately found,So lately found, and so abruptly gone,Began to doubt, and doubted many days,And as the days increas'd, increas'd thir doubt:Sometimes they thought he might be only shewn,And for a time caught up to God, as onceMoses was in the Mount, and missing long;And the great Thisbite who on fiery wheelsRode up to Heaven, yet once again to come

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Reunion

© McGimpsey David

What is my news? Well, since graduating,I've raked it in and I've tossed it off,I've plucked the green peach and sodded the pitch

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McAndrew's Hymn

© Rudyard Kipling

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,An', taught by time, I tak' it so--exceptin' always Steam

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America

© Hovey Richard

We came to birth in battle; when we pass,It shall be to the thunder of the drums

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The Deserted Village, A Poem

© Oliver Goldsmith

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain,Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,And parting summer's lingering blooms delay'd:Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green,Where humble happiness endear'd each scene!How often have I paus'd on every charm,The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm,The never-failing brook, the busy mill,The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill,The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,For talking age and whisp'ring lovers made!How often have I blest the coming day,When toil remitting lent its turn to play,And all the village train, from labour free,Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;While many a pastime circled in the shade,The young contending as the old survey'd;And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground,And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;And still, as each repeated pleasure tir'd,Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspir'd;The dancing pair that simply sought renownBy holding out to tire each other down:The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the place;The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love,The matron's glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village! sports like theseWith sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please:These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms--but all these charms are fled

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The Rising Village

© Oliver Goldsmith

Thou dear companion of my early years,Partner of all my boyish hopes and fears,To whom I oft addressed the youthful strain,And sought no other praise than thine to gain;Who oft hast bid me emulate his fameWhose genius formed the glory of our name;Say, when thou canst, in manhood's ripened age,With judgment scan the more aspiring page,Wilt thou accept this tribute of my lay,By far too small thy fondness to repay?Say, dearest Brother, wilt thou now excuseThis bolder flight of my adventurous muse? If, then, adown your cheek a tear should flowFor Auburn's Village, and its speechless woe;If, while you weep, you think the

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VI Mon. August [1742] hath xxxi days.

© Benjamin Franklin

The Busy-Man's Picture BUSINESS, thou Plague and Pleasure of my Life,Thou charming Mistress, thou vexatious Wife;Thou Enemy, thou Friend, to Joy, to Grief,Thou bring'st me all, and bring'st me no Relief,Thou bitter, sweet, thou pleasing, teazing Thing,Thou Bee, that with thy Honey wears a Sting;Some Respite, prithee do, yet do not give,I cannot with thee, nor without thee live

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An Evening Contemplation in a College

© Duncombe John

The Curfew tolls the hour of closing gates,With jarring sound the porter turns the key,Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits,And slowly, sternly quits it -- tho' for me.

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The Anagram

© John Donne

Marry, and love thy Flavia, for sheHath all things, whereby others beauteous be;For, though her eyes be small, her mouth is great;Though they be ivory, yet her teeth be jet;Though they be dim, yet she is light enough;And though her harsh hair fall, her skin is tough;What though her cheeks be yellow, her hair's red,Give her thine, and she hath a maidenhead

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The Footman: An Epistle to my Friend Mr. Wright

© Dodsley Robert

Dear FRIEND,Since I am now at leisure,And in the Country taking Pleasure,If it be worth your while to hearA silly Footman's Business there,I'll try to tell, in easy Rhyme,How I in London spend my Time

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That First Year

© Pier Giorgio Di Cicco

i wrote poems mainly that first year,picking garbage, doing dishes, humblingmyself among men who doubted me for having gottenthe world's publicity; what did i want with them, anyway?but after a year they saw my touch and needed an armaround them; men without women can use an italiannow and again to laugh christ off the cross and make him dance;make the devil look a bit foolish

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God and the Fifties

© Pier Giorgio Di Cicco

It was shady deals andConnie Francis on jukeboxjunipers and chevy convertiblesparked outside Dino's restaurant;it was brighter skies, manageableskyscrapers, gang-fights and Kennedy;it was gambling at Atlantic City withthe Four Seasons, it was crabs andJohnny Unitas and Connie Arena whoteased my heart through ten schoolyears, her father practicing race-trackcornet every day driving us nuts onsuch bored summers of tee-shirtswith cigarette packs at the sleeve andBeachboys and weights

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Cooper's Hill (1655)

© Sir John Denham

Sure there are poets which did never dreamUpon Parnassus, nor did taste the streamOf Helicon, we therefore may supposeThose made not poets, but the poets those

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Cooper's Hill (1642)

© Sir John Denham

Sure we have poets that did never dreamUpon Parnassus, nor did taste the streamOf Helicon, and therefore I supposeThose made not poets, but the poets those

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The Civil Wars between the Two Houses of Lancaster and York

© Samuel Daniel

The swift approach and unexpected speedThe king had made upon this new-rais'd force,In the unconfirmed troops, much fear did breed,Untimely hind'ring their intended course

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True Confessions Variations

© Crosbie Lynn

Ysidro calls me at night, meeya carra