Food poems

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Sunset on the Spire

© Elinor Wylie

All that I dream
By day or night
Lives in that stream
Of lovely light.

Fame Is A Food That Dead Men Eat

© Henry Austin Dobson

Fame is a food that dead men eat,-
I have no stomach for such meat.
In little light and narrow room,
They eat it in the silent tomb,
With no kind voice of comrade near
To bid the banquet be of cheer.

The Progress of Poetry

© Jonathan Swift

The Farmer's Goose, who in the Stubble,
Has fed without Restraint, or Trouble;
Grown fat with Corn and Sitting still,
Can scarce get o'er the Barn-Door Sill:

Apply the tale, and you shall find,
How just it suits with human kind.
Some faults we own: but, can you guess?
Why?--virtues carried to excess,
Wherewith our vanity endows us,
Though neither foe nor friend allows us.

Phillis, Or, the Progress of Love

© Jonathan Swift

Desponding Phillis was endu'd
With ev'ry Talent of a Prude,
She trembled when a Man drew near;
Salute her, and she turn'd her Ear:

Nevertheless

© Marianne Clarke Moore

you've seen a strawberry
that's had a struggle; yet
was, where the fragments met,

Baseball and Writing

© Marianne Clarke Moore

Fanaticism?No.Writing is exciting
and baseball is like writing.
You can never tell with either
how it will go

The Pangolin

© Marianne Clarke Moore

Another armored animal--scale
lapping scale with spruce-cone regularity until they
form the uninterrupted central
tail-row! This near artichoke with head and legs and grit-equipped

To Mr James Scrymgeour, Dundee

© William Topaz McGonagall

Success to James Scrymgeour,
He's a very good man,
And to gainsay it,
There's few people can;

The Wreck of the Columbine

© William Topaz McGonagall

Kind Christians, all pay attention to me,
And Miss Mouat's sufferings I'll relate to ye;
While on board the Columbine, on the merciless sea,
Tossing about in the darkness of night in the storm helplessly.

The Sprig of Moss

© William Topaz McGonagall

There lived in Munich a poor, weakly youth,
But for the exact date, I cannot vouch for the truth,
And of seven of a family he was the elder,
Who was named, by his parents, Alois Senefelder.

The Unknown

© Edgar Lee Masters

Ye aspiring ones, listen to the story of the unknown

Who lies here with no stone to mark the place.

The Death of Lord and Lady Dalhousie

© William Topaz McGonagall

Alas! Lord and Lady Dalhousie are dead, and buried at last,
Which causes many people to feel a little downcast;
And both lie side by side in one grave,
But I hope God in His goodness their souls will save.

The Blind Girl

© William Topaz McGonagall

Kind Christians, pray list to me,
And I'll relate a sad story,
Concerning a little blind girl, only nine years of age,
Who lived with her father in a lonely cottage.

The Battle of the Nile

'Twas on the 18th of August in the year of 1798,
That Nelson saw with inexpressible delight
The City of Alexandria crowded with the ships of France,
So he ordered all sail to be set, and immediately advance.

The Battle of Culloden

'Twas in the year of 1746, and in April the 14th day,
That Prince Charles Stuart and his army marched on without delay,
And on the 14th of April they encamped on Culloden Moor,
But the army felt hungry, and no food could they procure.

Saving a Train

'Twas in the year of 1869, and on the 19th of November,
Which the people in Southern Germany will long remember,
The great rain-storm which for twenty hours did pour down,
That the rivers were overflowed and petty streams all around.

Little Pierre's Song

In a humble room in London sat a pretty little boy,
By the bedside of his sick mother her only joy,
Who was called Little Pierre, and who's father was dead;
There he sat poor boy, hungry and crying for bread.

Glasgow

Beautiful city of Glasgow, with your streets so neat and clean,
Your stateley mansions, and beautiful Green!
Likewise your beautiful bridges across the River Clyde,
And on your bonnie banks I would like to reside.

Beautiful Aberfoyle

The mountains and glens of Aberfoyle are beautiful to sight,
Likewise the rivers and lakes are sparkling and bright;
And its woods were frequented by the Lady of the Lake,
And on its Lakes many a sail in her boat she did take.

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