Future poems
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My Prayer
© Joussaye Marie
Ye who have struggled with me in the strife, Ye who have braved the conflict, fought and bled,My comrades on the battle-field of Life, Deal with me gently after I am dead.
Drury-lane Prologue Spoken by Mr. Garrick at the Opening of the Theatre in Drury-Lane, 1747
© Samuel Johnson
When Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foesFirst rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespear rose;Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new:Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,And panting Time toil'd after him in vain:His pow'rful strokes presiding Truth impress'd,And unresisted Passion storm'd the breast
Saison des Semailles: Le Soir
© Victor Marie Hugo
C'est le moment crépusculaire.J'admire, assis sous un portail,Ce reste de jour dont s'éclaireLa dernière heure du travail.
Oceano Nox
© Victor Marie Hugo
Oh! combien de marins, combien de capitainesQui sont partis joyeux pour des courses lointaines,Dans ce morne horizon se sont évanouis!Combien ont disparu, dure et triste fortune!Dans une mer sans fond, par une nuit sans lune,Sous l'aveugle océan à jamais enfouis!
Combien de patrons morts avec leurs équipages!L'ouragan de leur vie a pris toutes les pages,Et d'un souffle il a tout dispersé sur les flots!Nul ne saura leur fin dans l'abîme plongée
Unmanifest Destiny
© Hovey Richard
To what new fates, my country, far And unforeseen of foe or friend,Beneath what unexpected star, Compelled to what unchosen end,
The Traveler
© Guiterman Arthur
Oh, who would choose to be a traveler? --That anxious railway-guide unravelerWho spends his nights in berths and bunks,His days in chaperoning trunks;Who stands in line at gates and wicketsTo spend his means on costly ticketsTo Irkutsk, Liverpool and YapAnd other dots upon the map
Poetical Epistle to Mrs. Green
© Grose Francis
Hoping no offence, my dear Madam Green,You're surely the strangest gentlewoman that ever was seen;Didn't you say you'd come and see my drawings, and eat some of my plumb cake,Here I've kept it above a week, and all for your sake,And now it's as hard as a stone, and not worth a pin,To waste so fine a cake is I'm sure both a shame and a sin
Pachelbel’s Canon
© Greene Richard
Is there a word or the fading of a noteas it leaves the string and nothing follows
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
Trivia; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London
© John Gay
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful laysThe proper implements for wintry ways;Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,To read the various warnings of the skies
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
© Edward Fitzgerald
IHas flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caughtThe Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.
The Tree
© Anne Finch - Countess of Winchilsea
Fair tree! for thy delightful shade'Tis just that some return be made;Sure some return is due from meTo thy cool shadows, and to thee
The Doubt of Future Foes
© Elizabeth I
The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy,And wit me warns to shun such snares as threaten mine annoy;For falsehood now doth flow, and subjects' faith doth ebb,Which should not be if reason ruled or wisdom weaved the web
