Sports poems
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An Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland, Considered as the Subject of Poetry
© William Taylor Collins
Home, thou return'st from Thames, whose Naiads long
Have seen thee ling'ring, with a fond delay,
Creole
© Robert Pinsky
I’m tired of the gods, I’m pious about the ancestors: afloat
In the wake widening behind me in time, the restive devisers.
Killing Him: A Radio Play
© John Wesley
LISTEN TO THE RADIO PLAY
JOE, a doctoral candidate in literature
RACHEL, his fiancée
POET/CRITIC
The Veteran
© William Henry Ogilvie
He asks no favour from the Field, no forward place demands
Save what he claims by fearless heart and light and dainty hands;
No man need make a way for him at ditch or gap or gate,
He rides on level terms with all, if not at equal weight
The Times
© Charles Churchill
The time hath been, a boyish, blushing time,
When modesty was scarcely held a crime;
An Old Tale Re-Told
© Madison Julius Cawein
Well, the laughter of Yule was turned to tears
For them and for us. We saw the glare
Of torches that hurried from chamber to stair;
And we heard the castle re-echo her name,
But neither to them nor to us she came.
And that was the last of Clara of Clare.
Nutting Song
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
The November sun invites me,
And although the chill wind smites me,
The Moon and the Comet
© Amelia Opie
This fact is clear….Both man and woman
Prize not what's good, but what's uncommon ;
And most delighted still they are,
Not with the excellent, but rare,….
I could of this give proofs most stable,
But, par exemple , take a fable.
A Monumental Column : A Funeral Elegy
© John Webster
To The Right Honourable Sir Robert Carr, Viscount Rochester, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, and One Of His Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council.
The greatest of the kingly race is gone,
How The Old Horse Won The Bet
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
What was it who was bound to do?
I did not hear and can't tell you,--
Pray listen till my story's through.
Washing Day
© Bliss William Carman
The Muses are turned gossips; they have lost
The buskined step, and clear high-sounding phrase,
Volpone: Come my Celia, let us prove
© Benjamin Jonson
Come my Celia, let us prove,
While we may, the sports of love.
To Sir Henry Goodyere
© John Donne
WHO makes the last a pattern for next year,
Turns no new leaf, but still the same things reads ;
Seen things he sees again, heard things doth hear,
And makes his life but like a pair of beads.
Hero And Leander. The Fifth Sestiad
© George Chapman
Now was bright Hero weary of the day,
Thought an Olympiad in Leander's stay.
Salmacis and Hermaphroditus.
© Francis Beaumont
MY wanton lines doe treate of amorous loue,
Such as would bow the hearts of gods aboue:
Jonquil And Fleur-de-lys
© Lord Alfred Douglas
Jonquil was a shepherd lad,
White he was as the curded cream,
Hair like the buttercups he had,
And wet green eyes like a full chalk stream.
A Rhymed Lesson (Urania)
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Are angel faces, silent and serene,
Bent on the conflicts of this little scene,
Whose dream-like efforts, whose unreal strife,
Are but the preludes to a larger life?
The Progress Of Refinement. Part I.
© Henry James Pye
Rous'd by those honors cull'd by Glory's hand
To dress the Victor on the Olympic sand,
With active toil each ardent stripling tries
To bind his forehead with the immortal prize;
Hence strength and beauty deck the Grecian race,
And manly labor gives them manly grace.
