Best Famous Guises Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Guises poems. This is a select list of the best famous Guises poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Guises poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of guises poems.

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• All Famous Guises Poems

Written by Henry Lawson | The Vagabond White handkerchiefs wave from the short black pier As we glide to the grand old sea -- But the song of my heart is for none to hear If one of them waves for me. A roving, roaming life is mine, Ever by field or flood -- For not far back in my father's line Was a dash of the Gipsy blood. Flax and tussock and fern, Gum and mulga and sand, Reef and palm -- but my fancies turn Ever away from land; Strange wild cities in ancient state, Range and river and tree, Snow and ice. But my star of fate Is ever across the sea. A god-like ride on a thundering sea, When all but the stars are blind -- A desperate race from Eternity With a gale-and-a-half behind. A jovial spree in the cabin at night, A song on the rolling deck, A lark ashore with the ships in sight, Till -- a wreck goes down with a wreck. A smoke and a yarn on the deck by day, When life is a waking dream, And care and trouble so far away That out of your life they seem. A roving spirit in sympathy, Who has travelled the whole world o'er -- My heart forgets, in a week at sea, The trouble of years on shore. A rolling stone! -- 'tis a saw for slaves -- Philosophy false as old -- Wear out or break 'neath the feet of knaves, Or rot in your bed of mould! But I'D rather trust to the darkest skies And the wildest seas that roar, Or die, where the stars of Nations rise, In the stormy clouds of war. Cleave to your country, home, and friends, Die in a sordid strife -- You can count your friends on your finger ends In the critical hours of life. Sacrifice all for the family's sake, Bow to their selfish rule! Slave till your big soft heart they break -- The heart of the family fool. Domestic quarrels, and family spite, And your Native Land may be Controlled by custom, but, come what might, The rest of the world for me. I'd sail with money, or sail without! -- If your love be forced from home, And you dare enough, and your heart be stout, The world is your own to roam. I've never a love that can sting my pride, Nor a friend to prove untrue; For I leave my love ere the turning tide, And my friends are all too new. The curse of the Powers on a peace like ours, With its greed and its treachery -- A stranger's hand, and a stranger land, And the rest of the world for me! But why be bitter? The world is cold To one with a frozen heart; New friends are often so like the old, They seem of the past a part -- As a better part of the past appears, When enemies, parted long, Are come together in kinder years, With their better nature strong. I had a friend, ere my first ship sailed, A friend that I never deserved -- For the selfish strain in my blood prevailed As soon as my turn was served. And the memory haunts my heart with shame -- Or, rather, the pride that's there; In different guises, but soul the same, I meet him everywhere. I had a chum. When the times were tight We starved in Australian scrubs; We froze together in parks at night, And laughed together in pubs. And I often hear a laugh like his From a sense of humour keen, And catch a glimpse in a passing phiz Of his broad, good-humoured grin. And I had a love -- 'twas a love to prize -- But I never went back again . . . I have seen the light of her kind brown eyes In many a face since then. . . . . . The sailors say 'twill be rough to-night, As they fasten the hatches down, The south is black, and the bar is white, And the drifting smoke is brown. The gold has gone from the western haze, The sea-birds circle and swarm -- But we shall have plenty of sunny days, And little enough of storm. The hill is hiding the short black pier, As the last white signal's seen; The points run in, and the houses veer, And the great bluff stands between. So darkness swallows each far white speck On many a wharf and quay. The night comes down on a restless deck, -- Grim cliffs -- and -- The Open Sea!

Written by Robert Creeley | Song What I took in my hand grew in weight. You must understand it was not obscene. Night comes. We sleep. Then if you know what say it. Don't pretend. Guises are what enemies wear. You and I live in a prayer. Helpless. Helpless, should I speak. Would you. What do you think of me. No woman ever was, was wiser than you. None is more true. But fate, love, fate scares me. What I took in my hand grows in weight.

Written by Rg Gregory | hawthorns and the like as the landscape falls away the hawthorn in its gnarly fashion is content to stand alone berries (the very tint of passion) that birds are wont to feed upon bloodstain the shortened day a stubborn tree that speaks of crusty age - its thorns alert to any too-spirited invasion who comes (it seems to say) gets hurt not those birds with juicy beaks insects swarm – by invitation come may though – winter fading may tree with its prickly pride sprouts white in prim rejoicing hunches around at eastertide spry uncle with (brightly voicing) maids and suchlike masquerading when hedged in (deprived of pique) its softer nature greenly oozing it’s host to children’s fingers (their tasty bread and cheesing) first name means strength in greek one of nature’s best harbingers many names to match its guises whitethorn quickthorn ske **** hag rich too in its folklore listings much belies its tetchy tag its wry wood (tangled twistings) pleurisy-cure a book advises old men have a hawthorn look pretend to a rough vernacular deny once-selves gentle as fairies wince at their own spectacular maydays (wistful gobbledegook) as the young feed off their berries

Written by Amy Levy | Sonnet Most wonderful and strange it seems, that I Who but a little time ago was tost High on the waves of passion and of pain, With aching heat and wildly throbbing brain, Who peered into the darkness, deeming vain All things there found if but One thing were lost, Thus calm and still and silent here should lie, Watching and waiting, --waiting passively. The dark has faded, and before mine eyes Have long, grey flats expanded, dim and bare; And through the changing guises all things wear Inevitable Law I recognise: Yet in my heart a hint of feeling lies Which half a hope and half a despair.