A little bread a crust a crumb

Related poetry:

1. Our Daily Bread “Give me my daily bread. It seems so odd, When all is done and said, This plea to God. To pray for cake might be The thing to do; But bread, it seems to me, Is just our due. “Give me my daily toil,” I ought to say – (If from life’s cursed coil I’d […]...
2. The Bread-Knife Ballad A little child was sitting Up on her mother’s knee And down down her cheeks the bitter tears did flow. And as I sadly listened I heard this tender plea, ‘Twas uttered in a voice so soft and low. “Not guilty” said the Jury And the Judge said “Set her free, But remember it must […]...
3. A Canvas For A Crust Aye, Montecelli, that’s the name. You may have heard of him perhaps. Yet though he never savoured fame, Of those impressionistic chaps, Monet and Manet and Renoir He was the avatar. He festered in a Marseilles slum, A starving genius, god-inspired. You’d take him for a lousy bum, Tho’ poetry of paint he lyred, In […]...
4. The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb What merit have the Tune No Breakfast if it guaranty The Rose content may bloom To gain renown of Lady’s Drawer But if the Lady come But once a Century, the Rose Superfluous become...
5. Among the Red Guns After waking at dawn one morning when the wind sang Low among dry leaves in an elm AMONG the red guns, In the hearts of soldiers Running free blood In the long, long campaign: Dreams go on. Among the leather saddles, In the heads of soldiers Heavy in the wracks and kills Of all straight […]...
6. Prologue to "Rhymes to be Traded for Bread&quot EVEN the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing, These were their gifts to him, To the minstrel chanting, begging, As the sunset-fire grew dim. The rich said “you are welcome.” Yea, even the rich were good. How strange that in […]...
7. THE BEGGAR TO MAB, THE FAIRY QUEEN Please your Grace, from out your store Give an alms to one that’s poor, That your mickle may have more. Black I’m grown for want of meat, Give me then an ant to eat, Or the cleft ear of a mouse Over-sour’d in drink of souce; Or, sweet lady, reach to me The abdomen of […]...
8. Bathed in War's Perfume BATHED in war’s perfume-delicate flag! (Should the days needing armies, needing fleets, come again,) O to hear you call the sailors and the soldiers! flag like a beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a million answering men! O the ships they arm with joy! O to see you leap and beckon from […]...
9. Dreamers Soldiers are citizens of death’s gray land, Drawing no dividend from time’s to-morrows. In the great hour of destiny they stand, Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows. Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives. Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin They think of firelit […]...
10. Promises Like Pie-Crust Promise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast, Free to come as free to go: For I cannot know your past, And of mine what can you know? You, so warm, may once have been Warmer towards […]...
11. Broughty Ferry Ancient Castle of Broughty Ferry With walls as strong as Londonderry; Near by the sea-shore, Where oft is heard and has been heard the cannon’s roar In the present day and days of yore, Loudly echoing from shore to shore. From your impregnable ramparts high Like the loud thunder in the sky Enough to frighten […]...
12. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
13. The Gardener XXVI: What Comes From Your Willing Hands “What comes from your willing Hands I take. I beg for nothing More.” “Yes, yes, I know you, modest Mendicant, you ask for all that one Has.” “If there be a stray flower for me I will wear it in my heart.” “But if there be thorns?” “I will endure them.” “Yes, yes, I know […]...
14. Night Movement-New York IN the night, when the sea-winds take the city in their arms, And cool the loud streets that kept their dust noon and afternoon; In the night, when the sea-birds call to the lights of the city, The lights that cut on the skyline their name of a city; In the night, when the trains […]...
15. Fairy Bread Come up here, O dusty feet! Here is fairy ready to eat. Here in my retiring room, Children, you may dine On the golden smell of broom And the shade of pine; And when you have eaten well, Fairy stories hear and tell....
16. If you were coming in the Fall If you were coming in the Fall, I’d brush the Summer by With half a smile, and half a spurn, As Housewives do, a Fly. If I could see you in a year, I’d wind the months in balls And put them each in separate Drawers, For fear the numbers fuse If only Centuries, delayed, […]...
17. The Violet Down in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head As if to hide from view. And yet it was a lovely flower, Its colour bright and fair; It might have graced a rosy bower, Instead of hiding there. Yet thus it was content to bloom, […]...
18. Gunner Joe I’ll tell you a seafaring story, Of a lad who won honour and fame Wi’ Nelson at Battle ‘Trafalgar, Joe Moggeridge, that were his name. He were one of the crew of the Victory, His job when a battle begun Was to take cannon balls out o’ basket And shove ’em down front end o’ […]...
19. Contentment Bed and bread are all I need In my happy day; Love of Nature is my creed, Unto her I pray; Sun and sky my spirit feed On my happy way. To no man I bow the head, None may master me; I will eat my crust of bread Lauding liberty; And upon my truckle […]...
20. 'Twas fighting for his Life he was ‘Twas fighting for his Life he was That sort accomplish well The Ordnance of Vitality Is frugal of its Ball. It aims once kills once conquers once There is no second War In that Campaign inscrutable Of the Interior....
21. Prelude They say that rhyme and rhythm are Outmoded now. I do not know, for I am far From high of brow. But if the twain you take away, Since basely bred, Proud Poetry, I dare to say, Would scarce be read. With humble heart I thus define My rôle in rhyme: Oh may I never […]...
22. A wild Blue sky abreast of Winds A wild Blue sky abreast of Winds That threatened it did run And crouched behind his Yellow Door Was the defiant sun Some conflict with those upper friends So genial in the main That we deplore peculiarly Their arrogant campaign...
23. Poppies on the Wheat Along Ancona’s hills the shimmering heat, A tropic tide of air with ebb and flow Bathes all the fields of wheat until they glow Like flashing seas of green, which toss and beat Around the vines. The poppies lithe and fleet Seem running, fiery torchmen, to and fro To mark the shore. The farmer does […]...
24. Said The Poet To The Analyst My business is words. Words are like labels, Or coins, or better, like swarming bees. I confess I am only broken by the sources of things; As if words were counted like dead bees in the attic, Unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings. I must always forget who one words is able […]...
25. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
26. The Battle fought between the Soul The Battle fought between the Soul And No Man is the One Of all the Battles prevalent By far the Greater One No News of it is had abroad Its Bodiless Campaign Establishes, and terminates Invisible Unknown Nor History record it As Legions of a Night The Sunrise scatters These endure Enact and terminate...
27. MACTAVISH I do not write for love of pelf, Nor lust for phantom fame; I do not rhyme to please myself, Nor yet to win acclaim: No, strange to say it is my plan, What gifts I have, to lavish Upon a simple working man MACTAVISH. For that’s the rather smeary name, Of dreary toil a […]...
28. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
29. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
30. The Wounded Bird In the wide bed Under the freen embroidered quilt With flowers and leaves always in soft motion She is like a wounded bird resting on a pool. The hunter threw his dart And hit her breast, Hit her but did not kill. “O my wings, lift me lift me! I am not dreadfully hurt!” Down […]...
31. I had been hungry, all the Years I had been hungry, all the Years My Noon had Come to dine I trembling drew the Table near And touched the Curious Wine ‘Twas this on Tables I had seen When turning, hungry, Home I looked in Windows, for the Wealth I could not hope for Mine I did not know the ample Bread […]...
32. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
33. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
34. Tides O patient shore, thou canst not go to meet Thy love, the restless sea, how comfortest Thou all thy loneliness? Art thou at rest, When, loosing his strong arms from round thy feet, He turns away? Know’st thou, however sweet That other shore may be, that to thy breast He must return? And when in […]...
35. In 200 B. C “Alexander son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedaemonians “ We can very well imagine That they were utterly indifferent in Sparta To this inscription. “Except the Lacedaemonians”, But naturally. The Spartans were not To be led and ordered about As precious servants. Besides A panhellenic campaign without A Spartan king as a leader […]...
36. Sonnet XXXII: Our Flood's-Queen Thames Our flood’s-queen Thames for ships and swans is crown’d, And stately Severn for her shore is prais’d, The crystal Trent for fords and fish renown’d, And Avon’s fame to Albion’s cliffs is rais’d; Carlegion Chester vaunts her holy Dee, York many wonders of her Ouse can tell, The Peak her Dove, whose banks so fertile […]...
37. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
38. Psalm 127 The blessing of God on the business and comforts of life. If God succeed not, all the cost And pains to build the house are lost; If God the city will not keep, The watchful guards as well may sleep. What if you rise before the sun, And work and toil when day is done; […]...
39. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
40. Longevity Said Brown: ‘I can’t afford to die For I have bought annuity, And every day of living I Have money coming in to me: While others toil to make their bread I make mine by not being dead.’ Said Jones: ‘I can’t afford to die, For I have books and books to write. I do […]...