10 Best Famous I Think It Would Be Best Poems
Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous I Think It Would Be Best poems. This is a select list of the best famous I Think It Would Be Best poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous I Think It Would Be Best poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of i think it would be best poems.
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Written by
Ellis Parker Butler |
Whene’er I feed the barnyard folk
My gentle soul is vexed;
My sensibilities are torn
And I am sore perplexed.
The rooster so politely stands
While waiting for his food,
But when I feed him, what a change!
He then is rough and rude.
He crowds his gentle wives aside
Or pecks them on the head;
Sometimes I think it would be best
If he were never fed.
And so I often stand for hours
Deciding which is right—
To impolitely have enough,
Or starve and be polite.
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Written by
Robert William Service |
I just think that dreams are best,
Just to sit and fancy things;
Give your gold no acid test,
Try not how your silver rings;
Fancy women pure and good,
Fancy men upright and true:
Fortressed in your solitude,
Let Life be a dream to you.
For I think that Thought is all;
Truth's a minion of the mind;
Love's ideal comes at call;
As ye seek so shall ye find.
But ye must not seek too far;
Things are never what they seem:
Let a star be just a star,
And a woman -- just a dream.
O you Dreamers, proud and pure,
You have gleaned the sweet of life!
Golden truths that shall endure
Over pain and doubt and strife.
I would rather be a fool
Living in my Paradise,
Than the leader of a school,
Sadly sane and weary wise.
O you Cynics with your sneers,
Fallen brains and hearts of brass,
Tweak me by my foolish ears,
Write me down a simple ass!
I'll believe the real "you"
Is the "you" without a taint;
I'll believe each woman too,
But a slightly damaged saint.
Yes, I'll smoke my cigarette,
Vestured in my garb of dreams,
And I'll borrow no regret;
All is gold that golden gleams.
So I'll charm my solitude
With the faith that Life is blest,
Brave and noble, bright and good, . . .
Oh, I think that dreams are best!
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Written by
Francesco Petrarch |
SONNET CLXVIII. Mia ventura ed Amor m' avean sì adorno. HE REGRETS HAVING RETURNED HER GLOVE. Me Love and Fortune then supremely bless'd!Her glove which gold and silken broidery bore!I seem'd to reach of utmost bliss the crest,Musing within myself on her who wore.Ne'er on that day I think, of days the best,Which made me rich, then beggar'd as before,But rage and sorrow fill mine aching breast.With slighted love and self-shame boiling o'er;That on my precious prize in time of needI kept not hold, nor made a firmer stand'Gainst what at best was merely angel force,That my feet were not wings their flight to speed,And so at last take vengeance on the hand,Make my poor eyes of tears the too oft source. Macgregor.
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