Food poems

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A Walk In The Shrubbery

© Charlotte Turner Smith

To the Cistus or Rock Rose, a beautiful plant, whose flowers

expand, and fall off twice in twenty-four hours.

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The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies

© Thomas Hood

I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere

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Gold painted jars - wines worth a thousand.

© Li Po

Jade carved dishes - food costing more.

 I throw the chopsticks down,

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A Captive Throstle

© Alfred Austin

Poor little mite with mottled breast,

Half-fledged, and fallen from the nest,

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The Growth Of A Legend

© James Russell Lowell

A FRAGMENT

A legend that grew in the forest's hush

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The Wanderer’s Return

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

An old heart's mourning is a hideous thing,
And weeds upon an aged weeper cling
Like night upon a grave. The city there,
Gaunt as a woman who has once been fair,

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Grandpa Vogt’s—1959 by Ben Vogt : American Life in Poetry #247 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Lau

© Ted Kooser

Family photographs, how much they do capture in all their elbow-to-elbow awkwardness. In this poem, Ben Vogt of Nebraska describes a color snapshot of a Christmas dinner, the family, impatient to tuck in, arrayed along the laden table. I especially like the description of the turkey. Grandpa Vogt’s-1959

The food is on the table. Turkey tanned

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A Mystery

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

They are dying! they are dying! where the golden corn is growing,
They are dying! they are dying! where the crowded herds are lowing;
They are gasping for existence where the streams of life are flowing,
And they perish of the plague where the breeze of health is blowing!

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 4

© Publius Vergilius Maro

BUT anxious cares already seiz’d the queen:  

She fed within her veins a flame unseen;  

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The Australiad

© Mary Hannay Foott

Meanwhile the hardy Dutchmen came,—as ancient charts attest,—
Hartog, and Nuyts, and Carpenter, and Tasman, and the rest,
But found not forests rich in spice, nor market for their wares,
Nor servile tribes to toil o’ertasked ’mid pestilential airs,—
And deemed it scarce worth while to claim so poor a continent,
But with their slumberous tropic isles thenceforward were content.

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Picture of Daniel in the Lion's Den at Hamilton Palace

© William Wordsworth

Amid a fertile region green with wood

And fresh with rivers, well doth it become

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The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.

© James Beattie

I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain

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The Response To A Festal Ode

© Confucius

Heaven shields and sets thee fast.

  It round thee fair has cast

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Conquest Of Prejudice

© Charles Lamb

Unto a Yorkshire school was sent
 A negro youth to learn to write,
And the first day young Juba went
 All gazed on him as a rare sight.

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Ode II: To Sleep

© Mark Akenside

I.

Thou silent power, whose welcome sway

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An Oriental Apologue

© James Russell Lowell

Somewhere in India, upon a time,

(Read it not Injah, or you spoil the verse,)

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The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

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Of Three Children

© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch

Nor prince nor peer of fairyland
Had power to weave that wide riband
Of the grey, the gold, the green.

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Cradle Hymn

© Isaac Watts

  Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
  Holy angels guard thy bed;
  Heavenly blessings without number
  Gently falling on thy head.

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The Song of Harold Harfager

© Sir Walter Scott

The sun is rising dimly red,

The wind is wailing low and dread;