Government poems

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O My Native Land(English translation of Urdu poem"Aie Watan")

© Tanwir Phool

O my native land !
O my native land !
Far better than a garden
Is your dust and sand

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The Long and the Short of It

© Venright Steve

The good news is that Jesus has returned.The bad news is that he's brought his family.The result is that nothing will ever be the same again (not that it ever was).

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Social Notes I, 1932

© Scott Francis Reginald

"We see thee rise, O Canada, The true North, strong and free,(Tralala-lala, tralala-lala, etc. ...)

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Cyder

© Philips John

-- -- Honos erit huic quoq; Pomo? Virg.

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Frank Dutton

© Julia A Moore

AIR -- "Dublin Boy"

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Paradise Regain'd: Book IV (1671)

© John Milton

PErplex'd and troubl'd at his bad successThe Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,Discover'd in his fraud, thrown from his hope,So oft, and the perswasive RhetoricThat sleek't his tongue, and won so much on Eve,So little here, nay lost; but Eve was Eve,This far his over-match, who self deceiv'dAnd rash, before-hand had no better weigh'dThe strength he was to cope with, or his own:But as a man who had been matchless heldIn cunning, over-reach't where least he thought,To salve his credit, and for very spightStill will be tempting him who foyls him still,And never cease, though to his shame the more;Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time,About the wine-press where sweet moust is powr'd,Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound;Or surging waves against a solid rock,Though all to shivers dash't, the assault renew,Vain battry, and in froth or bubbles end;So Satan, whom repulse upon repulseMet ever; and to shameful silence brought,Yet gives not o're though desperate of success,And his vain importunity pursues

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I Would Fain Die a Dry Death

© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins

The American public is patient, The American public is slow,The American public will stand as much As any public I know

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Flying Deeper into the Century

© Pier Giorgio Di Cicco

Flying deeper into the centuryis exhilarating, the faces of loved ones eaten outslowly, the panhandles of flesh warding offthe air, the smiling plots

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Oh Canada

© Colombo John Robert

Canada could have enjoyed: English government, French culture, and American know-how.

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Reading Titus Andronicus In Three Mile Plains, N.S.

© Clarke George Elliott

Rue: When Witnesses sat before Bibles open like platesAnd spat sour sermons of interposition and nullification,While burr-orchards vomited bushels of thorns, and leavesRattled like uprooted skull-teeth across rough highways,And stars ejected brutal, serrated, heart-shredding light,And dark brothers lied down, quare, in government graves,Their white skulls jabbering amid farmer's dead flowers -

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The Ballad of Othello Clemence

© Clarke George Elliott

There's a black wind howlin' by Whylah Falls;There's a mad rain hammerin' the flowers;There's a shotgunned man moulderin' in petals;There's a killer chucklin' to himself;There's a mother keenin' her posied son;There's a joker amblin' over his bones

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The Ballad Of Boh Da Thone

© Rudyard Kipling

This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone,
 Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne,
 Who harried the district of Alalone:
 How he met with his fate and the V.P.P.
 At the hand of Harendra Mukerji,
 Senior Gomashta, G.B.T.

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The Modern Japanee

© George Ade

We figured once on fans and screens —

We figure now on the Philippines.

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August

© Boris Pasternak

This was its promise, held to faithfully:
The early morning sun came in this way
Until the angle of its saffron beam
Between the curtains and the sofa lay,