The Convict's Return

Related poetry:

1. The Irish Convict's Return Ye mountains and glens of Old Ireland, I’ve returned home to ye again; During my absence from ye My heart always felt great pain. Oh, how I long’d to see you dear Nora, And the old folks at home; And the beautiful Lakes o’ Killarney, Where we oft together did roam. Ye beautiful Lakes of […]...
2. HIS RETURN TO LONDON From the dull confines of the drooping west, To see the day spring from the pregnant east, Ravish’d in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly To thee, blest place of my nativity! Thus, thus with hallow’d foot I touch the ground, With thousand blessings by thy fortune crown’d. O fruitful Genius! that bestowest here […]...
3. My Mistress Commanding Me to Return Her Letters SO grieves th’ adventurous merchant, when he throws All the long toil’d-for treasure his ship stows Into the angry main, to save from wrack Himself and men, as I grieve to give back These letters : yet so powerful is your sway As if you bid me die, I must obey. Go then, blest papers, […]...
4. Nora, the Maid of Killarney Down by the beautiful Lakes of Killarney, Off times I have met my own dear Barney, In the sweet summer time of the year, In the silvery moonlight so clear, I’ve rambled with my sweetheart Barney, Along the green banks of the Lakes of Killarney. The Lakes of Killarney are most lovely to be seen […]...
5. Convicts Love Canaries Dick’s dead! It was the Polack guard Put powdered glass into his cage When I was tramping round the yard, I could have killed him in my rage. I slugged him with that wrench I stole: That’s why I’m rotting in the Hole. Dick’s dead! Sure I wish I was too. His honey breast, his […]...
6. The Return of Morgan and Fingal And there we were together again – Together again, we three: Morgan, Fingal, fiddle, and all, They had come for the night with me. The spirit of joy was in Morgan’s wrist, There were songs in Fingal’s throat; And secure outside, for the spray to drench, Was a tossed and empty boat. And there were […]...
7. Young Munro the Sailor ‘Twas on a sunny morning in the month of May, I met a pretty damsel on the banks o’ the Tay; I said, My charming fair one, come tell to me I pray, Why do you walk alone on the banks o’ the Tay. She said, Kind sir, pity me, for I am in great […]...
8. The Return of Frankenstein He didn’t die in the whirlpool by the mill Where he had fallen in after a wild chase By all the people of the town. Somehow he clung to an overhanging rock Until the villagers went away. And when he came out, he was changed forever, That soft heart of his had hardened And he […]...
9. Return A little too abstract, a little too wise, It is time for us to kiss the earth again, It is time to let the leaves rain from the skies, Let the rich life run to the roots again. I will go to the lovely Sur Rivers And dip my arms in them up to the […]...
10. Ballad Of The Despairing Husband My wife and I lived all alone, Contention was our only bone. I fought with her, she fought with me, And things went on right merrily. But now I live here by myself With hardly a damn thing on the shelf, And pass my days with little cheer Since I have parted from my dear. […]...
11. Dream Song 94: Ill lay he long, upon this last return Ill lay he long, upon this last return, Unvisited. The doctors put everything in the hospital Into reluctant Henry And the nurses took it out & put it back, Smiling like fiends, with their eternal ‘we.’ Henry did a slow burn, Collapsing his dialogue to their white ears & shiny on the flanges. Sanka he […]...
12. Cromwell's Return An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell’s Return From Ireland The forward youth that would appear Must now forsake his muses dear, Nor in the shadows sing, His numbers languishing. ‘Tis time to leave the books in dust, And oil the unusиd armour’s rust: Removing from the wall The corslet of the hall. So restless Cromwell could […]...
13. Old Crony Said she: ‘Although my husband Jim Is with his home content, I never should have married him, We are so different. Oh yes, I know he loves me well, Our children he adores; But he’s so dull, and I rebel Against a life that bores. ‘Of course there is another man, Quite pennyless is he; […]...
14. An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland The forward youth that would appear Must now forsake his Muses dear, Nor in the shadows sing His numbers languishing. ‘Tis time to leave the books in dust, And oil th’ unused armour’s rust, Removing from the wall The corslet of the hall. So restless Cromwell could not cease In the inglorious arts of peace, […]...
15. John Horace Burleson I won the prize essay at school Here in the village, And published a novel before I was twenty-five. I went to the city for themes and to enrich my art; There married the banker’s daughter, And later became president of the bank- Always looking forward to some leisure To write an epic novel of […]...
16. Sonnet 28: How can I then return in happy plight How can I then return in happy plight That am debarred the benefit of rest? When day’s oppression is not eased by night, But day by night, and night by day oppressed? And each, though enemies to either’s reign, Do in consent shake hands to torture me, The one by toil, the other to complain […]...
17. 403. The Soldier's Return: A Ballad WHEN wild war’s deadly blast was blawn, And gentle peace returning, Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless, And mony a widow mourning; I left the lines and tented field, Where lang I’d been a lodger, My humble knapsack a’ my wealth, A poor and honest sodger. A leal, light heart was in my breast, My […]...
18. Crematorium-return (to where the ashes of both my parents are strewn) I) Ok the pair of you lie still What’s disturbing me need pass No fretful hand over your peace This world’s vicissitudes are stale Fodder for you who feed the grass Some particles of your two dusts By moon’s wish accident or wind May have […]...
19. The Return They turned him loose; he bowed his head, A felon, bent and grey. His face was even as the Dead, He had no word to say. He sought the home of his old love, To look on her once more; And where her roses breathed above, He cowered beside the door. She sat there in […]...
20. The Return All afternoon my father drove the country roads Between Detroit and Lansing. What he was looking for I never learned, no doubt because he never knew himself, Though he would grab any unfamiliar side road And follow where it led past fields of tall sweet corn In August or in winter those of frozen sheaves. […]...
21. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
22. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
23. Eleventh Avenue Racket THERE is something terrible About a hurdy-gurdy, A gipsy man and woman, And a monkey in red flannel All stopping in front of a big house With a sign “For Rent” on the door And the blinds hanging loose And nobody home. I never saw this. I hope to God I never will. Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo. Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum. […]...
24. The Return of the Children “They” Traffics and Discoveries Neither the harps nor the crowns amused, nor the cherubs’ dove-winged races Holding hands forlornly the Children wandered beneath the Dome, Plucking the splendid robes of the passers-by, and with pitiful! faces Begging what Princes and Powers refused: “Ah, please will you let us go home?” Over the jewelled floor, nigh […]...
25. An Ode to the Queen All hail to the Empress of India, Great Britain’s Queen! Long may she live in health, happy and serene; Loved by her subjects at home and abroad; Blest may she be when lying down To sleep, and rising up, by the Eternal God; Happy may her visions be in sleep… And happy her thoughts in […]...
26. The Return of Albert You’ve ‘eard ‘ow young Albert Ramsbottom, In the Zoo up at Blackpool one year, With a stick and ‘orse’s ‘ead ‘andle, Gave a lion a poke in the ear. The name of the lion was Wallace, The poke in the ear made ‘im wild; And before you could say ‘Bob’s your Uncle,’ ‘E’d up and […]...
27. Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ‘Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, […]...
28. Albert's Return You’ve ‘eard ‘ow young Albert Ramsbottom At the zoo up at Blackpool one year With a stick with an ‘orse’s ‘ead ‘andle Gave a lion a poke in the ear? The name of the lion was Wallace, The poke in the ear made ‘im wild And before you could say “Bob’s yer uncle” E’d upped […]...
29. 276. Song-Whistle o'er the lave o't FIRST when Maggie was my care, Heav’n, I thought, was in her air, Now we’re married-speir nae mair, But whistle o’er the lave o’t! Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, Sweet and harmless as a child- Wiser men than me’s beguil’d; Whistle o’er the lave o’t! How we live, my Meg and me, How […]...
30. The Married Man The bachelor ‘e fights for one As joyful as can be; But the married man don’t call it fun, Because ‘e fights for three For ‘Im an’ ‘Er an’ It (An’ Two an’ One make Three) ‘E wants to finish ‘is little bit, An’ e’ wants to go ‘ome to is tea! The bachelor pokes […]...
31. The Dog Lovers So they bought you And kept you in a Very good home Cental heating TV A deep freeze A very good home- No one to take you For that lovely long run- But otherwise ‘A very good home’ They fed you Pal and Chun But not that lovely long run, Until, mad with energy and […]...
32. Incantation Human reason is beautiful and invincible. No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books, No sentence of banishment can prevail against it. It establishes the universal ideas in language, And guides our hand so we write Truth and Justice With capital letters, lie and oppression with small. It puts what should be above things […]...
33. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
34. Return This little house sows the degrees By which wood can return to trees. Weather has stained the shingles dark And indistinguishable from bark. Lichen that long ago adjourned Its lodging here has now returned. And if you look in through the door You see a sapling through the floor....
35. A Return WE turned back mad from the mystic mountains, All foamed with red and with elfin gold: Up from the heart of the twilight’s fountains The fires enchanted were starward rolled. We turned back mad: we thought of the morrow, The iron clang of the far-away town: We could not weep in our bitter sorrow, But […]...
36. Suttee LAMP of my life, the lips of Death Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath; Naught shall revive thy vanished spark. . . Love, must I dwell in the living dark? Tree of my life, Death’s cruel foot Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root; Nought shall restore thy glory fled. . . […]...
37. Return Return often and take me, Beloved sensation, return and take me When the memory of the body awakens, And an old desire runs again through the blood; When the lips and the skin remember, And the hands feel as if they touch again. Return often and take me at night, When the lips and the […]...
38. No Return I like divorce. I love to compose Letters of resignation; now and then I send one in and leave in a lemon- Hued Huff or a Snit with four on the floor. Do you like the scent of a hollyhock? To each his own. I love a burning bridge. I like to watch the small […]...
39. I Shall Return I shall return again; I shall return To laugh and love and watch with wonder-eyes At golden noon the forest fires burn, Wafting their blue-black smoke to sapphire skies. I shall return to loiter by the streams That bathe the brown blades of the bending grasses, And realize once more my thousand dreams Of waters […]...
40. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...