Family poems
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Aeneid
© Virgil
THE ARGUMENT.- Turnus takes advantage of AEneas's absence,
fires some of his ships (which are transformed into sea nymphs),
and assaults his camp. The Trojans, reduc'd to the last extremities,
send Nisus and Euryalus to recall AEneas; which furnishes the
poet with that admirable episode of their friendship, generosity, and
the conclusion of their adventures.
Grace At Evening
© Edgar Albert Guest
For all the beauties of the day,
The innocence of childhoods play,
For health and strength and laughter sweet,
Dear Lord, our thanks we now repeat.
Sparrows Self-Domesticated In Trinity College, Cambridge
© William Cowper
None ever shared the social feast,
Or as an inmate or a guest,
To The Memory Of The Right Honourable Lord Talbot, Late Chancellor Of Great Britain. Addressed To Hi
© James Thomson
While with the public, you, my Lord, lament
A friend and father lost; permit the muse,
Lost and Found
© Julia A Moore
In a southern city lived a wealthy family;
In a southern city was the happy home
Of a father and mother and a little daughter.
In peace and contentment they lived alone.
The Child and the Hind
© Thomas Campbell
Come, maids and matrons, to caress
Wiesbaden's gentle hind;
And, smiling, deck its glossy neck
With forest flowers entwined.
Seventy-Nine
© Francis Bret Harte
Know me next time when you see me, won't you, old smarty?
Oh, I mean YOU, old figger-head,--just the same party!
Take out your pensivil, d--n you; sharpen it, do!
Any complaints to make? Lots of 'em--one of 'em's YOU.
Italy : 2. Meillerie
© Samuel Rogers
These grey majestic cliffs that tower to heaven,
These glimmering glades and open chestnut-groves,
That echo to the heifer's wandering bell,
Or woodman's axe, or steers-man's song beneath,
The Ship Of State
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
A SENTIMENT
This "sentiment" was read on the same occasion as the "Family Record,"
Crowds
© Charles Baudelaire
It is not given to every man to take a bath of multitude; enjoying a crowd is an art; and only he can relish a debauch of vitality at the expense of the human species, on whom, in his cradle, a fairy has bestowed the love of masks and masquerading, the hate of home, and the passion for roaming.
Multitude, solitude: identical terms, and interchangeable by the active and fertile poet. The man who is unable to people his solitude is equally unable to be alone in a bustling crowd.
Jubilate Agno: Fragment B, Part 2
© Christopher Smart
LET PETER rejoice with the MOON FISH who keeps up the life in the waters by night.
Let Andrew rejoice with the Whale, who is array'd in beauteous blue and is a combination of bulk and activity.
First Communions
© Arthur Rimbaud
Truly, theyre stupid, these village churches
Where fifteen ugly chicks soiling the pillars
Listen, trilling out their divine responses,
To a black freak whose boots stink of cellars:
But the sun wakes now, through the branches,
The irregular stained-glasss ancient colours.
I Shall Soon Fall Prey To Rot
© Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
I shall soon fall prey to rot.
Though it's hard to die, it's good to die;
I shall ask for no one's pity,
And there's no one who would pity me.
A Sheaf Of Snakes Used Heretofore To Be My Seal, The Crest Of Our Poor Family
© John Donne
ADOPTED in God's family and so
Our old coat lost, unto new arms I go.
Purgatorio (English)
© Dante Alighieri
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail
The little vessel of my genius now,
That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel;
Poesy's Guerdon
© Franklin Pierce Adams
( * * * I do not believe a single modern English
poet is living to-day on the current proceeds of his
verse.--From "Literary Taste and How to Form it,"
by Arnold Bennett.)
Red Rock Camp
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
A TALE OF EARLY COLORADO.
My simple story is of those times ere the magic power of steam
First whirled the traveller oer the plains with the swiftness of a dream,
Reducing to a few days time the journey of many a week,
That fell of old to the miners lot ere he sighted tall Pikes Peak.
Ancestors
© Cesare Pavese
Stunned by the world, I reached an age
when I threw punches at air and cried to myself.
Satan
© Richard Crashaw
Below the bottom of the great Abyss,
There where one centre reconciles all things,
