Travel poems
/ page 80 of 119 /
Where Lies The Land To Which Yon Ship Must Go?
© William Wordsworth
WHERE lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?
Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,
Festively she puts forth in trim array;
Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow?
Paradise Lost : Book VIII.
© John Milton
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he a while
To George Felton Mathew
© John Keats
Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong,
And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song;
Nor can remembrance, Mathew! bring to view
A fate more pleasing, a delight more true
Signal Service
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Time-table! Terrible and hard
To figure! At some station lonely
We see this sign upon the card:
[Footnote Asterisk: Train 20: Stops on signal only.]
A Farewell
© William Wordsworth
FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain-ground,
Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair
Of that magnificent temple which doth bound
One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare;
At The Birth Of An Age
© Robinson Jeffers
V
GUDRUN (standing this side of the closing curtains; 'with Chrysothemis.
Carling has left her, going
The Cross Roads
© Robert Southey
There was an old man breaking stones
To mend the turnpike way,
He sat him down beside a brook
And out his bread and cheese he took,
For now it was mid-day.
Peter Rugg the Bostonian
© Louise Imogen Guiney
The mare is pawing by the oak,
The chaise is cool and wide
For Peter Rugg the Bostonian
With his little son beside;
The women loiter at the wheels
In the pleasant summer-tide.
Ah! Sunflower
© William Blake
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done;
Ghazal 01
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
O beautiful wine-bearer, bring forth the cup and put it to my lips
Path of love seemed easy at first, what came was many hardships.
Supple Cord by Naomi Shihab Nye: American Life in Poetry #107 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-20
© Ted Kooser
Naomi Shihab Nye is one of my favorite poets. She lives in San Antonio, Texas, and travels widely, an ambassador for poetry. Here she captures a lovely moment from her childhood.
Alfred. Book V.
© Henry James Pye
As o'er the tented field the squadrons spread,
Stretch'd on the turf the hardy soldier's bed;
While the strong mound, and warder's careful eyes,
Protect the midnight camp from quick surprise,
A voice, in hollow murmurs from the plain,
Attracts the notice of the wakeful train.
Book Fourteenth [conclusion]
© William Wordsworth
In one of those excursions (may they ne'er
Fade from remembrance!) through the Northern tracts
An Essay on Death and a Prison
© Henry King
A prison is in all things like a grave,
Where we no better priviledges have
Then dead men, nor so good. The soul once fled
Lives freer now, then when she was cloystered
The Grave Of The Countess Potocki
© Adam Mickiewicz
In spring's own country, where the gardens blow,
You faded, tender rose! For hours now past,
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Day.
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays
Promontory
© Arthur Rimbaud
Golden dawn and shivering evening find our brig lying by opposite
this villa and its dependencies which form a promontory
Faris
© Adam Mickiewicz
In vain, in vain they threaten me!
I speed on with redoubled blows.
The haughty crags have I outgazed,
And, where such hostile front they raised,
Now in a long defile they flee,
Nor one behind another shows.
Address To My Infant Daughter, Dora On Being Reminded That She Was A Month Old That Day, September 1
© William Wordsworth
--HAST thou then survived-
Mild Offspring of infirm humanity,
The Ghost - Book I
© Charles Churchill
With eager search to dart the soul,
Curiously vain, from pole to pole,
