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Best Famous Practices Poems

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

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Written by Donald Justice | Create an image from this poem

Men At Forty

 Men at forty
Learn to close softly
The doors to rooms they will not be
Coming back to.
At rest on a stair landing, They feel it Moving beneath them now like the deck of a ship, Though the swell is gentle.
And deep in mirrors They rediscover The face of the boy as he practices tying His father's tie there in secret And the face of that father, Still warm with the mystery of lather.
They are more fathers than sons themselves now.
Something is filling them, something That is like the twilight sound Of the crickets, immense, Filling the woods at the foot of the slope Behind their mortgaged houses.


Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Nature affects to be sedate

 Nature affects to be sedate
Upon occasion, grand
But let our observation shut
Her practices extend

To Necromancy and the Trades
Remote to understand
Behold our spacious Citizen
Unto a Juggler turned --
Written by Francesco Petrarch | Create an image from this poem

SONNET XXI

[Pg 25]

SONNET XXI.

Amor piangeva, ed io con lui talvolta.

HE CONGRATULATES BOCCACCIO ON HIS RETURN TO THE RIGHT PATH.

Love grieved, and I with him at times, to see
By what strange practices and cunning art,
You still continued from his fetters free,
From whom my feet were never far apart.
Since to the right way brought by God's decree,
Lifting my hands to heaven with pious heart,
I thank Him for his love and grace, for He
The soul-prayer of the just will never thwart:
And if, returning to the amorous strife,
Its fair desire to teach us to deny,
Hollows and hillocks in thy path abound,
'Tis but to prove to us with thorns how rife
The narrow way, the ascent how hard and high,
Where with true virtue man at last is crown'd.
Macgregor.

Book: Shattered Sighs