Food poems
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Metamorphoses: Book The Third
© Ovid
The End of the Third Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Noey Bixler
© James Whitcomb Riley
Another hero of those youthful years
Returns, as Noey Bixler's name appears.
Elegy XIV: Julia
© John Donne
Hark, news, O envy ; thou shalt hear descried
My Julia ; who as yet was ne'er envied.
How The Robin Came
© John Greenleaf Whittier
When next morn the sun's first rays
Glistened on the hemlock sprays,
Straight that lodge the old chief sought,
And boiled sainp and moose meat brought.
"Rise and eat, my son!" he said.
Lo, he found the poor boy dead!
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XII - Aswa-Medha - (Sacrifice Of The Horse)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased
warriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is
Labyrinth As The Erasure Of Cries Heard Once Within It Or: (Mr. Bones I Succeeded Later)
© Larry Levis
Is dog eat dog out dere'Big Business, Mr. Bones.
You know what I'm doing now? I'm watching the Complete
Poems of Hart Crane as they are slowly fed
Into a pulping machine in East Bayonne.
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book III
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Night.
O Trivia, goddess, leave these low abodes,
Another Fragment to Music
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
No, Music, thou art not the 'food of Love.'
Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self,
Till it becomes all Music murmurs of.
If I Forget Thee, O Jerusalem
© Jean Ingelow
'Many,' methought, 'and rich
They must have been, so long their chronicle.
Perhaps the world was fuller then of folk,
For ships at sea are few that near us now.'
Rural Elegance, An Ode to the Late Duchess of Somerset
© William Shenstone
While orient skies restore the day,
And dew-drops catch the lucid ray;
Amid the sprightly scenes of morn
Will aught the Muse inspire?
Oh! peace to yonder clamorous horn
That drowns the sacred lyre!
Solomon
© Thomas Parnell
But long expectance of a bliss delay'd
Breeds anxious doubt, and tempts the sacred maid;
Then mists arising strait repel the light,
The colour'd garden lies disguis'd with night,
A pale-horn'd crescent leads a glimm'ring throng,
And groans of absence jarr within the song.
The Agonie
© George Herbert
Philosophers have measur'd the mountains,
Fathom'd the depths of the seas, of states, and kings,
Walk'd with a staffe to heav'n, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove:
Yet few there are that found them; Sinne and Love.
To The Negotiations In Kabul
© Joseph Brodsky
You, the brutal-hearted sky-scraping mountain tribes!
Lamb and horseflesh - is all your menu describes;
Long beards and handcrafted rugs, your loud guttural names;
Never before have seen a sea, not to mention a piano - in your eyes.
The Irish Emigrants Mother
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
"Oh! come, my mother, come away, across the sea-green water;
Oh! come with me, and come with him, the husband of thy daughter;
Oh! come with us, and come with them, the sister and the brother,
Who, prattling climb thy ag'ed knees, and call thy daughter-mother.
Gratitude
© Edith Nesbit
I found a starving cat in the street:
It cried for food and a place by the fire.
I carried it home, and I strove to meet
The claims of its desire.
The Angel In The House. Book I. The Prologue.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
V.
His purpose with performance crown'd,
He to his well-pleased Wife rehears'd,
When next their Wedding-Day came round,
His leisure's labour, Book the First.
How Soon The Servant Sun
© Dylan Thomas
A leg as long as trees,
This inward sir,
Mister and master, darkness for his eyes,
The womb-eyed, cries,
And all sweet hell, deaf as an hour's ear,
Blasts back the trumpet voice.
