Great poems
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The Links of Love
© Seaman Owen
My heart is like a driver-club, That heaves the pellet hard and straight,That carries every let and rub, The whole performance really great;My heart is like a bulger-head, That whiffles on the wily tee,Because my love has kindly said She'll halve the round of life with me
To Certain Friends
© Scott Francis Reginald
I see my friends now standing about me, bemused,Eyeing me dubiously as I pursue my course,Clutching their little less that is world's away.
The Mirror for Magistrates: The Induction
© Thomas Sackville
The wrathful winter, 'proaching on apace,With blustering blasts had all ybar'd the treen,And old Saturnus, with his frosty face,With chilling cold had pierc'd the tender green;The mantles rent, wherein enwrapped been The gladsome groves that now lay overthrown, The tapets torn, and every bloom down blown
Flight into Reality
© Rowley Rosemarie
Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury
His Mother's Service to Our Lady
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Lady of Heaven and earth, and therewithalCrowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell,I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call,Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell,Albeit in nought I be commendable
Mortality
© Roberts Theodore Goodridge
A little strife--and oh! the long forgetting. A gust of cheering--and the frozen breath.A day of singing--and a night of silence. An hour for living--and an age for death.
The Iceberg
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
I was spawned from the glacier,A thousand miles due northBeyond Cape Chidley;And the spawning,When my vast, wallowing bulk went under,Emerged and heaved aloft,Shaking down cataracts from its rocking sides,With mountainous surge and thunderOutraged the silence of the Arctic sea
The Great and Little Weavers
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
The great and the little weavers,They neither rest nor sleep.They work in the height and the glory,They toil in the dark and the deep.
Canada
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
O Child of Nations, giant-limbed, Who stand'st among the nations nowUnheeded, unadored, unhymned, With unanointed brow, --
Ave! (An Ode for the Shelley Centenary, 1892)
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
I Wide marshes ever washed in clearest air,Whether beneath the sole and spectral star The dear severity of dawn you wear,Or whether in the joy of ample day And speechless ecstasy of growing JuneYou lie and dream the long blue hours away Till nightfall comes too soon,Or whether, naked to the unstarred night,You strike with wondering awe my inward sight, --
II Go forth to you with longing, though the yearsThat turn not back like your returning streams And fain would mist the memory with tears,Though the inexorable years deny My feet the fellowship of your deep grass,O'er which, as o'er another, tenderer sky, Cloud phantoms drift and pass, --You know my confident love, since first, a child,Amid your wastes of green I wandered wild
White Flock
© Anna Akhmatova
Copyright Anna Akhmatova
Copyright English translation by Ilya Shambat (ilya_shambat@yahoo.com)
Origin: http://www.geocities.com/ilya_shambat/akhmatova.html
Iris Holden, District Nurse
© Reibetanz John
`Love's mysteries in souls do grow,But yet the body is his book.'
Daily Bread
© Reibetanz John
We have cried often when we have given them the little victualling wehad to give them; we had to shake them, and they have fallen to sleepwith the victuals in their mouths many a time
The Contractor
© Reibetanz John
When God made me, there was a war on:Supplies were scarce, so He did it on the cheap.Oh, not that He produced a moronOr paraplegic by starving my fetal sleep --
Sestina Otiosa
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
Our great work, the Otia Merseiana,Edited by learned Mister Sampson,And supported by Professor Woodward,Is financed by numerous Bogus MeetingsHastily convened by Kuno MeyerTo impose upon the Man of Business
