Retaliation: (Oliver Goldsmith Poems)
Of old, when Scarron his companions invited, Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united; If our landlord supplies us ...
Of old, when Scarron his companions invited, Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united; If our landlord supplies us ...
Intense the viewless flood of heat descendsOn hill, and dale, and wood, and tangled brake,Where, to the chirping grasshopper, the ...
The house of December was all aglow, Each room was jolly and red; There were bulgy stockings ranged in a row, And holly ...
The hut was built of bark and shrunken slabs,That wore the marks of many rains, and showedDry flaws wherein had ...
Thus spoke to my lady the knight full of care,"Let me have your advice in a weighty affair.This Hamilton's bawn, ...
IIn a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things ...
IA hundred years! they're quickly fled, With all their joy and sorrow;Their dead leaves shed upon the dead, Their fresh ones sprung ...
Olympus' gates unfold: in heaven's high towersAppear in council all the immortal powers;Great Jove above the rest exalted sate,And in ...
Dear M---- By way of saving time,I'll do this letter up in rhyme,Whose slim stream through four pages flowsEre one is ...
The Hired Man's supper, which he sat before,In near reach of the wood-box, the stove-doorAnd one leaf of the kitchen-table, ...
Up in the Highlands of ScotlandThe fairies are very rude;I do not know if all are so-Some of them may ...
By the old tavern door on the causey there layA hogshead of stingo just rolled from a dray,And there stood ...
_Written jointly with a particular Friend, after a conversationsimilar to the subject, with the Damon of the Story_. --------Believing love was ...
O Mother State! the winds of MarchBlew chill o'er Auburn's Field of God,Where, slow, beneath a leaden archOf sky, thy ...
DEAR SIR,--Your letter come to han' Requestin' me to please be funny;But I ain't made upon a plan Thet knows wut's comin', ...
Oh, such a funny August house-- It really was like a zoo, For animals roamed in all the rooms (Even a kangaroo); Such sociable, ...
Well; I may now receive, and die. My sin Indeed is great, but yet I have been in A purgatory, such as ...
. 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)
For the sake of guilty conscience, and the heart that ticks thetimeOf the clockworks of my nature, I desire to ...
If heaven the grateful liberty would giveThat I might choose my method how to live,And all those hours propitious fate ...
Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John, Except, of course, the extry he'p when harvest-time come on-- And ...
'Twas said, by those of old, Beware,Consider well before you swear.The Counsel's good without dispute,And ev'ry prudent Man will do't.But, ...
"Sine Cerere et Baccho friget Venus."In spite of all that poets tell us(For poets are but lying fellows)Of Cupid's flames, ...
Ye ancient Maids, who ne'er must proveThe early joys of youth and love,Whose names grim Fate (to whom 'twas given,When ...
Act 2, Scene 2Clindor, a young picaresque hero, has been living by his wits in Paris, but has now drifted ...
Since, dearest Harry, you will needs requestA short account of all the Muse possest,That, down from Chaucer's days to Dryden's ...
I.A NATION'S greatness lies in men, not acres;One master-mind is worth a million hands.No royal robes have marked the planet-shakers,But ...
The plaza was so still in that moment two years ago thateverything was clear,As if it had been preserved beneath ...
M. Another year to banish gloom, And still my friend retains his bloom!-- Still laughs and jokes, and tells his tale; Eats heartily : ...
The April house was near a pond; It was made of reeds and of rushes, All helter-skelter and out of kelter, And ringed ...
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