Poems about recommends (11 Poems)

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    Orlando Furioso Canto 7 (Ludovico Ariosto Poems)

    ARGUMENTRogero, as directed by the pair,The giantess Eriphila o’erthrows.That done, he to Alcina’s labyrinth, whereMore than one knight is tied and prisoned, goes.To him Melissa sage the secret snare,And remedy for that grave evil shows.Whence he, by her advised, with … Continue reading

    The Progress Of A Divine: Satire (Richard Savage Poems)

    All priests are not the same, be understood!Priests are, like other folks, some bad, some good.What’s vice or virtue, sure admits no doubt;Then, clergy, with church mission, or without;When good, or bad, annex we to your name,The greater honour, or … Continue reading

    Fingal – Book III (James Macpherson Poems)

    ARGUMENT. Cuthullin, pleased with the story of Carril, insists with that bard for more of his songs. He relates the actions of Fingal in Lochlin, and death of Agandecca, the beautiful sister of Swaran. He had scarce finished, when Calmar, … Continue reading

    Men and Women (James Kenneth Stephen Poems)

    . IN THE BACKS.   As I was strolling lonely in the Backs,    I met a woman whom I did not like.   I did not like the way the woman walked:   Loose-hipped, big-boned, disjointed, angular.   If her anatomy comprised a waist,   I did not notice it: she had a face   With eyes and lips adjusted thereunto,   But round her mouth no pleasing shadows stirred,   Nor did her eyes invite a second glance.  Her dress was absolutely colourless,  Devoid of taste or shape or character;  Her boots were rather old, and rather large,  And rather shabby, not precisely matched.  Her hair was very far from beautiful  And not abundant: she had such a hat  As neither merits nor expects remark.  She was not clever, I am very sure,  Nor witty nor amusing: well-informed  She may have been, and kind, perhaps, of heart;  But gossip was writ plain upon her face.  And so she stalked her dull unthinking way;  Or, if she thought of anything, it was  That such a one had got a second class,  Or Mrs So-and-So a second child.  I did not want to see that girl again:  I did not like her: and I should not mind  If she were done away with, killed, or ploughed.  She did not seem to serve a useful end:  And certainly she was not beautiful.. ON THE KING’S PARADE.   As I was waiting for the tardy tram,   I met what purported to be a man.   What seemed to pass for its material frame,   The semblance of a suit of clothes had on,   Fit emblem of the grand sartorial art   And worthy of a more sublime abode.   Its coat and waistcoat were of weird design   Adapted to the fashion’s latest whim.   I think it wore an Athenæum tie.  White flannels draped its too ethereal limbs  And in its vacant eye there glared a glass.   In vain for this poor derelict of flesh,  Void of the spirit it was built to house,  Have classic poets tuned their deathless lyre,  Astute historians fingered mouldering sheets   And reared a palace of sententious truth.  In vain has y been added unto x,  In vain the mighty decimal unrolled,  Which strives indefinitely to be π  In vain the palpitating frog has groaned  Beneath the licensed knife: in vain for this  The surreptitious corpse been disinterred  And forced, amid the disinfectant fumes,  To yield its secrets to philosophy.  In vain the stress and storm of politics  Beat round this empty head: in vain the priest  Pronounces loud anathemas: the fool  In vain remarks upon the fact that God  Is missing in the world of his belief.  Vain are the problems whether space, or time,  Or force, or matter can be said to be:  Vain are the mysteries of Melchisedec,  And vain Methuselah’s unusual years.   It had a landlady I make no doubt;  A friend or two as vacant as itself;  A kitchen-bill; a thousand cigarettes;  A dog which knew it for the fool it was.  Perhaps it was a member of the Union,  Who votes as often as he does not speak,  And “recommends” as wildly as he spells.  Its income was as much beyond its merits  As less than its inane expenditure.  Its conversation stood to common sense  As stands the Sporting Times (its favourite print)  To wit or humour. It was seldom drunk,  But seldom sober when it went to bed.   The mean contents of these superior clothes  Were they but duly trained by careful hands,  And castigated with remorseless zeal,  Endowed with purpose, gifted with a mind,  And taught to work, or play, or talk,  or laugh,  Might possibly aspire—I do not know—  To pass, in time, for what they dare to scorn,  An ordinary undergraduate.   What did this thing crawling ‘twixt heaven and earth,  Amid the network of our grimy streets?  What end was it intended to subserve,  What lowly mission fashioned to neglect?  It did not seem to wish for a degree,  And what its object was I do not know,  Unless it was to catch the tardy tram. (James Kenneth Stephen)

    Of Benevolence: An Epistle To Eumenes (John Armstrong Poems)

    Kind to my frailties still, Eumenes, hear;Once more I try the patience of your ear.Not oft I sing: the happier for the town,So stun’d already they’re quite stupid grownWith monthly, daily–charming things I own.Happy for them, I seldom court the … Continue reading

    Cathloda – Duan III (James Macpherson Poems)

    Ossian, after some general reflections, describes the situation of Fingal, and the position of the army of Lochlin. – The conversation of Starno and Swaran. – The episode of Corman-trunar and Foina-bragal. – Starno, from his own example, recommends to … Continue reading

    Gotham – Book I (Charles Churchill Poems)

    Far off (no matter whether east or west,A real country, or one made in jest,Nor yet by modern Mandevilles disgraced,Nor by map-jobbers wretchedly misplaced)There lies an island, neither great nor small,Which, for distinction sake, I Gotham call.  The man who … Continue reading

    The Dunciad: Book IV (Alexander Pope Poems)

    Yet, yet a moment, one dim ray of light Indulge, dread Chaos, and eternal Night!Of darkness visible so much be lent,As half to show, half veil, the deep intent.Ye pow’rs! whose mysteries restor’d I sing,To whom time bears me on … Continue reading

    Conference Of The Birds (Farid al-Din Attar Poems)

    ‘Attar began The Conference of the Birds (Mantiq al-tair) with an invocation praising the holy Creator in which he suggested that one must live a hundred lives to know oneself; but you must know God by the deity, not by … Continue reading

    The Tradesman And The Scholar (Anne Kingsmill Finch Poems)

    A Citizen of mighty Pelf, But much a Blockhead, in himself Disdain’d a Man of shining Parts, Master of Sciences and Arts, Who left his Book scarce once a day For sober Coffee, Smoak, or Tea; Nor spent more Money … Continue reading

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