Health poems
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The Passions
© William Taylor Collins
When Music, heav'nly maid, was young,While yet in early Greece she sung,The Passions oft, to hear her shell,Throng'd around her magic cell,Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,Possest beyond the Muse's painting;By turns they felt the glowing mindDisturb'd, delighted, rais'd, refin'd:Till once, 'tis said, when all were fir'd,Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspir'd,From the supporting myrtles roundThey snatch'd her instruments of sound;And as they oft had heard apartSweet lessons of her forceful art,Each, for madness rul'd the hour,Would prove his own expressive pow'r
To Daughter Ann, New Year's Day, 1567
© Cecil William
As years do grow, so cares increase,And time will move to look to thrift
Oh, My Goodie Gracious
© Burke Johnny
Oh, herself Anastatia felt mopish and queer, She hadn't been well, I should say, for a year,The bright healthy color is gone from her cheek, And it's only just once in a year that she'll speak
Risus Dei
© Brown Thomas Edward
Methinks in Him there dwells alwayA sea of laughter very deep,Where the leviathans leap,And little children play,Their white feet twinkling on its crisped edge;But in the outer bayThe strong man drives the wedgeOf polished limbs,And swims
The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius
© James Beattie
THE FIRST BOOK (excerpts) The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar! Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime Hath felt the influence of malignant star, And wag'd with Fortune an eternal war! Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote hath pin'd aloneThen dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!
And yet, the languor of inglorious days Not equally oppressive is to all
The Old Man's Wish
© Anonymous
If I live to be old, for I find I go down,Let this be my fate: In a country townMay I have a warm house, with a stone at the gate,And a cleanly young girl to rub my bald pate
Mary Hamilton
© Anonymous
Word 's gane to the kitchen, And word 's gane to the ha,That Marie Hamilton gangs wi bairn To the hichest Stewart of a'.
Barbara Allan
© Anonymous
It was in and about the Martinmas time, When the green leaves were a falling,That Sir John Græme, in the West Country, Fell in love with Barbara Allan.
The Flawed Bell
© Aggeler William F.
It is bitter and sweet on winter nightsTo listen by the fire that smokes and palpitates,To distant souvenirs that rise up slowlyAt the sound of the chimes that sing in the fog.
The Wants of Man
© Adams John Quincy
Man wants but little here below,Nor wants that little long. -- Goldsmith's Hermit
Canada: Case History: 1945
© Earle Birney
This is the case of a high-school land,deadset in adolescence;loud treble laughs and sudden fists,bright cheeks, the gangling presence
The Magnetic Lady To Her Patient
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
'Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain;
My hand is on thy brow,
My spirit on thy brain;
To The Spade Of A Friend (An Agriculturist)
© William Wordsworth
SPADE! with which Wilkinson hath tilled his lands,
And shaped these pleasant walks by Emont's side,
Thou art a tool of honour in my hands;
I press thee, through the yielding soil, with pride.
