Money poems

/ page 60 of 64 /

Order by :

1
. . .
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64

Nights Nothings Again

© Carl Sandburg

WHO knows what I know
when I have asked the night questions
and the night has answered nothing
only the old answers?

Hour by hour the caissons reach down to the rock of the
earth and hold the building to a turning planet.
Hour by hour the girders play as ribs and reach out and
hold together the stone walls and floors.

Off the Turnpike

© Amy Lowell

Good ev'nin', Mis' Priest.
I jest stepped in to tell you Good-bye.
Yes, it's all over.
All my things is packed

The Great Adventure of Max Breuck

© Amy Lowell

1
A yellow band of light upon the street
Pours from an open door, and makes a wide
Pathway of bright gold across a sheet

The Grocery

© Amy Lowell

"Hullo, Alice!"
"Hullo, Leon!"
"Say, Alice, gi' me a couple
O' them two for five cigars,

A Tale of Starvation

© Amy Lowell

There once was a man whom the gods didn't love,
And a disagreeable man was he.
He loathed his neighbours, and his neighbours hated him,
And he cursed eternally.

Fool's Money Bags

© Amy Lowell

Outside the long window,
With his head on the stone sill,
The dog is lying,
Gazing at his Beloved.

The Cremona Violin

© Amy Lowell

Part First
Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door.
A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind
Swirled through the trees, and scattered leaves before

Sword Blades and Poppy Seed

© Amy Lowell

A drifting, April, twilight sky,
A wind which blew the puddles dry,
And slapped the river into waves
That ran and hid among the staves

The Fruit Shop

© Amy Lowell

Cross-ribboned shoes; a muslin gown,
High-waisted, girdled with bright blue;
A straw poke bonnet which hid the frown
She pluckered her little brows into

Patience

© Amy Lowell

Be patient with you?
When the stooping sky
Leans down upon the hills
And tenderly, as one who soothing stills

Ad Nepotem

© Robert Louis Stevenson

And lose the prime of thy Falernian?
Hoard casks of money, if to hoard be thine;
But let thy daughter drink a younger wine!
Let her go rich and wise, in silk and fur;

Religio Laici

© John Dryden

Dar'st thou, poor worm, offend Infinity?
And must the terms of peace be given by thee?
Then thou art justice in the last appeal;
Thy easy God instructs thee to rebel:
And, like a king remote, and weak, must take
What satisfaction thou art pleas'd to make.

The Princess Betrothed To The King Of Garba

© Jean de La Fontaine

WHAT various ways in which a thing is told
Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold;
In stories we invention may admit;
But diff'rent 'tis with what historick writ;
Posterity demands that truth should then
Inspire relation, and direct the pen.

The Old Man's Calendar

THIS calendar o'erspread with rubrick days;
She soon forgot and learn'd the pirate's ways;
The matrimonial zone aside was thrown,
And only mentioned where the fact was known:

The Mandrake

OUR youth, Calimachus, no sooner came,
But he howe'er appeared to please the dame;
His camp he pitched and entered on the siege
Of fair Lucretia, faithful to her liege,
Who presently the haughty tigress played,
And sent him, like the rest, away dismayed.

The Magic Cup

YOUR wife the same; to make her, in your eye,
More beautiful 's the aim you may rely;
For, if unkind, she would a hag be thought,
Incapable soft love scenes to be taught.
These reasons make me to my thesis cling,--
To be a cuckold is a useful thing.

The Falcon

I RECOLLECT, that lately much I blamed,
The sort of lover, avaricious named;
And if in opposites we reason see,
The liberal in paradise should be.
The rule is just and, with the warmest zeal,
To prove the fact I to the CHURCH appeal.

The Ear-Maker And The Mould-Mender

QUITE raw was Alice; for his purpose fit;
Not overburdened with a store of wit;
Of this indeed she could not be accused,
And Cupid's wiles by her were never used;
Poor lady, all with her was honest part,
And naught she knew of stratagem or art.

The Dog

'TWOULD endless prove, and nothing would avail,
Each lover's pain minutely to detail:
Their arts and wiles; enough 'twill be no doubt,
To say the lady's heart was found so stout,
She let them sigh their precious hours away,
And scarcely seemed emotion to betray.

1
. . .
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64