Citatepedia^®.com

The M'Camley Mixture

Jack M'Camley,
Lank and long,
Ox-persuader,
Billabong.
Bluff and hearty
Sort o' party,
Got the "blanky" habit strong!

Says the parson,
Bright old bird,
"Why'd you use that
Horrid word? -
(Jack looked grinful) -
Not say sinful,
But most vulgar and absurd!"

"It's the blanky
Church, betwixt
You and me, that
Got me fixed!"

[...] Read more

poem by William Thomas Goodge
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I need a cave to hide

The fresh air around
Go merry round
The childhood innocent
Laugh banter fun
Jumping bragging leaping
The life was a joy
In the face of people
Sweet talk smile
Little star twinkling
The wind was the friend
The light of the sun
Was the guide
The words of the old and elder
Was the philosophy of life.
So truth was the singing
From the heart
So soothing was the sight
The playing of the bird.

Time passes

[...] Read more

poem by Abdul Wahab
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet to Ingratitude

He that's ungrateful, has no guilt but one;
All other crimes may pass for virtues in him.
- YOUNG.

I COULD have borne affliction's sharpest thorn;
The sting of malice­poverty's deep wound;
The sneers of vulgar pride, the idiot's scorn;
Neglected Love, false Friendship's treach'rous sound;

I could, with patient smile, extract the dart
Base calumny had planted in my heart;
The fangs of envy; agonizing pain;
ALL, ALL, nor should my steady soul complain:

E'en had relentless FATE, with cruel pow'r,
Darken'd the sunshine of each youthful day;
While from my path she snatch'd each transient flow'r.
Not one soft sigh my sorrow should betray;
But where INGRATITUDE'S fell poisons pour,

[...] Read more

poem by Mary Darby Robinson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Our Daily Bread

We need no barbarous words nor solemn spell
To raise the unknown. It lies before our feet;
There have been men who sank down into Hell
In some suburban street,

And some there are that in their daily walks
Have met archangels fresh from sight of God,
Or watched how in their beans and cabbage-stalks
Long files of faerie trod.

Often me too the Living voices call
In many a vulgar and habitual place,
I catch a sight of lands beyond the wall,
I see a strange god’s face.

And some day this work will work upon me so
I shall arise and leave both friends and home
And over many lands a pilgrim go
Through alien woods and foam,

[...] Read more

poem by Clive Staples Lewis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A tissue's lament

Once a perfect soft white sheet

Now a crumpled smelly rag

Once a song on a serene windchime

Now a broken chord in a backroom bar

Once innocent wrapped up in my pure white bed

And sheets of a hundred others

On which I rested my angelic head

Hopes smashed

Dreams of serviette fame defeated

[...] Read more

poem by Yvette Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Battle Between The Rats And The Weazles

In dire Contest the Rats and Weazles met,
And Foot to Foot, and Point to Point was set:
An ancient Quarrel had such Hatred wrought,
That for Revenge, as for Renown, they fought.
Now bloody was the Day, and hard the Strife,
Wherein bold Warriors lost neglected Life;
But as, some Errors still we must commit,
Nor Valour always ballanc'd is by Wit;
Among the Rats some Officers appear'd,
With lofty Plumage on their Foreheads rear'd,
Unthinking they, and ruin'd by their Pride:
For when the Weazles prov'd the stronger Side,
A gen'ral Rout befell, and a Retreat,
Was by the Vanquish'd now implor'd of Fate;
To slender Crannies all repair'd in haste,
Where easily the undress'd Vulgar past:
But when the Rats of Figure wou'd have fled,
So wide those branching Marks of Honour spread,
The Feather in the Cap was fatal to the Head.

poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Eldorado Park

I sit on an isolated bench beside the pond
And I write these few lines in my pocketbook.
Oh! The black swan in the pond dragged me to my boisterous school days.
We called her 'Blackbeauty'; The dark girl with a huge back.
I remember once I passed her a vulgar joke and still I repent.
'Hey! My sweetheart could I borrow your buttocks as my pillow? '
She just smiled only and her pearly teeth that I never forget and who knows where she goes?
The faraway golf links like a paradise and someone strikes the ball with the club and it flies to the infinity.
Oh! If you could do the same for me then I could have landed on my native grounds peacefully.
In the pellucid water of the pond I see my wrinkled ugly face and I realize the gravity of wreckage in the uncertain life.

* To Alison, Jerry, Sandra, Denis, Max, George and the rest of all.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ballade

By Mystic's banks I held my dream.
(I held my fishing rod as well,)
The vision was of dace and bream,
A fruitless vision, sooth to tell.
But round about the sylvan dell
Were other sweet Arcadian shrines,
Gone now, is all the rural spell,
Arcadia has trolley lines.

Oh, once loved, sluggish, darkling stream,
For me no more, thy waters swell,
Thy music now the engines' scream,
Thy fragrance now the factory's smell;
Too near for me the clanging bell;
A false light in the water shines
While Solitude lists to her knell,--
Arcadia has trolley lines.

Thy wooded lanes with shade and gleam
Where bloomed the fragrant asphodel,

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Naenia

Even the beauteous must die! This vanquishes men and immortals;
But of the Stygian god moves not the bosom of steel.
Once and once only could love prevail on the ruler of shadows,
And on the threshold, e'en then, sternly his gift he recalled.
Venus could never heal the wounds of the beauteous stripling,
That the terrible boar made in his delicate skin;
Nor could his mother immortal preserve the hero so godlike,
When at the west gate of Troy, falling, his fate he fulfilled.
But she arose from the ocean with all the daughters of Nereus,
And o'er her glorified son raised the loud accents of woe.
See! where all the gods and goddesses yonder are weeping,
That the beauteous must fade, and that the perfect must die.
Even a woe-song to be in the mouth of the loved ones is glorious,
For what is vulgar descends mutely to Orcus' dark shades.

poem by Friedrich Schiller
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Character of a Happy Life

How happy is he born or taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his highest skill;

Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepar'd for death
Untied unto the world with care
Of princes' grace or vulgar breath;

Who envies none whom chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
The deepest wounds are given by praise,
By rule of state, but not of good;

Who hath his life from rumours freed;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruins make accusers great;

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wotton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!