Famous Wishful Poems by Famous Poets

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Careers

 I knew three sisters,--all were sweet;
 Wishful to wed was I,
And wondered which would mostly meet
 The matrimonial tie.
I asked the first what fate would she
 Wish joy of life to bring to her.
She answered: 'I would like to be
 A concert singer.'

I asked the second, for my mind
 Was set on nuptial noosing,
Unto what lot was she inclined
...Read more of this...

On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell

 Ere yet the morn its lovely blushes spread,
See Sewell number'd with the happy dead.
Hail, holy man, arriv'd th' immortal shore,
Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more.
Come, let us all behold with wishful eyes
The saint ascending to his native skies;
From hence the prophet wing'd his rapt'rous way
To the blest mansions in eternal day.
Then begging for the Spirit of...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of Soulful Sam

 You want me to tell you a story, a yarn of the firin' line,
Of our thin red kharki 'eroes, out there where the bullets whine;
Out there where the bombs are bustin',
and the cannons like 'ell-doors slam --
Just order another drink, boys, and I'll tell you of Soulful Sam.

Oh, Sam, he was never 'ilarious, though I've 'ad some mates as...Read more of this...

The Young British Soldier

 When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
 Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
 Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
 Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
 Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
 So-oldier OF the Queen!

Now all you...Read more of this...

Sonnet CLXV

SONNET CLXV. L' aura soave ch' al sol spiega e vibra. HIS HEART LIES TANGLED IN HER HAIR.  The pleasant gale, that to the sun unplaitsAnd spreads the gold Love's fingers weave, and braidO'er her fine eyes, and all around her head,Fetters my heart, the wishful sigh creates:No nerve but thrills,...Read more of this...

Sonnet LII

SONNET LII. Sente l' aura mia antica, e i dolci colli. HE REVISITS VAUCLUSE.  I feel the well-known gale; the hills I spySo pleasant, whence my fair her being drew,Which made these eyes, while Heaven was willing, shewWishful, and gay; now sad, and never dry.[Pg 275]O feeble hopes!...Read more of this...

Reptiles And Roses

 So crystal clear it is to me
That when I die I cease to be,
All else seems sheer stupidity.

All promises of Paradise
Are wishful thinking, preacher's lies,
Dogmatic dust flung in our eyes.

Yea, life's immortal, swift it flows
Alike in reptile and in rose,
But as it comes, so too it goes.

Dead roses will not bloom again;
The lifeless lizard writhes in vain;
Cups shattered will...Read more of this...

To S.M. A Young African Painter On Seeing His Works

 O show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent,
And thought in living characters to paint,
When first thy pencil did those beauties give,
And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,
How did those prospects give my soul delight,
A new creation rushing on my sight?
Still, wond'rous youth! each noble path pursue,
On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:
Still may the painter's and the poet's fire...Read more of this...

Sekhmet the Lion-headed Goddess of War

 He was the sort of man
who wouldn't hurt a fly.
Many flies are now alive
while he is not.
He was not my patron.
He preferred full granaries, I battle.
My roar meant slaughter.
Yet here we are together
in the same museum.
That's not what I see, though, the fitful
crowds of staring children
learning the lesson of multi-
cultural obliteration, sic transit
and so on.

I see the temple where...Read more of this...

To S. M. a young African Painter on seeing his Works

To show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent,
And thought in living characters to paint,
When first thy pencil did those beauties give,
And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,
How did those prospects give my soul delight,
A new creation rushing on my sight?
Still, wond'rous youth! each noble path pursue,
On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:
Still may the painter's and the poet's fire
To aid...Read more of this...

361. Song—Behold the Hour the Boat arrive

 BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arrive!
 My dearest Nancy, O fareweel!
Severed frae thee, can I survive,
 Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae weel?


Endless and deep shall be my grief;
 Nae ray of comfort shall I see,
But this most precious, dear belief,
 That thou wilt still remember me!


Alang the solitary shore
 Where flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
Across the rolling,...Read more of this...

Master Hugues Of Saxe-Gotha

 An imaginary composer.]

I.

Hist, but a word, fair and soft!
Forth and be judged, Master Hugues!
Answer the question I've put you so oft:
What do you mean by your mountainous fugues?
See, we're alone in the loft,---

II.

I, the poor organist here,
Hugues, the composer of note,
Dead though, and done with, this many a year:
Let's have a colloquy, something to quote,
Make the world prick up...Read more of this...

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