“Mike Teavee…” by Roald Dahl
The most important thing we’ve learned, So far as children are concerned, Is never, NEVER, NEVER let Them near your television set — Or better still, just don’t install The idiotic thing at all. In almost every house we’ve been, We’ve watched them gaping at the screen. They loll and slop and lounge about, And […]
Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf by Roald Dahl
As soon as Wolf began to feel That he would like a decent meal, He went and knocked on Grandma’s door. When Grandma opened it, she saw The sharp white teeth, the horrid grin, And Wolfie said, “May I come in?” Poor Grandmamma was terrified, “He’s going to eat me up!” she cried. And she […]
I’ve Got a Golden Ticket by Roald Dahl
I never thought my life could be Anything but catastrophe But suddenly I begin to see A bit of good luck for me ‘Cause I’ve got a golden ticket I’ve got a golden twinkle in my eye I never had a chance to shine Never a happy song to sing But suddenly half the world […]
I had a little nut-tree, by Roald Dahl
I had a little nut-tree, Nothing would it bear. I searched in all its branches, But not a nut was there. “Oh, little tree,” I begged, “Give me just a few.” The little tree looked down at me And whispered, “Nuts to you.” ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, […]
Hot and Cold by Roald Dahl
A woman who my mother knows Came in and took off all her clothes. Said I, not being very old, ‘By golly gosh, you must be cold!’ ‘No, no!’ she cried. ‘Indeed I’m not! I’m feeling devilishly hot!’ ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and […]
“Goldie Pinklesweet…” by Roald Dahl
“Attention please! Attention please! Don’t dare to talk! Don’t dare to sneeze! Don’t doze or daydream! Stay awake! Your health, your very life’s at stake! Ho-ho, you say, they can’t mean me. Ha-ha, we answer, wait and see. Did any of you ever meet A child called Goldie Pinklesweet? Who on her seventh birthday went […]
Excerpt – “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” by Roald Dahl
“This famous wicked little tale Should never have been put on sale It is a mystery to me Why loving parents cannot see That this is actually a book About a brazen little crook…” “…Now just imagine how you’d feel If you had cooked a lovely meal, Delicious porridge, steaming hot, Fresh coffee in the […]
Augustus Gloop… by Roald Dahl
“Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop! The great big greedy nincompoop! How long could we allow this beast To gorge and guzzle, feed and feast On everything he wanted to? Great Scott! It simply wouldn’t do! However long this pig might live, We’re positive he’d never give Even the smallest bit of fun Or happiness to anyone. […]
On the Danger of Procrastination by Abraham Cowley
THE DANGER OF PROCRASTINATION A letter to Mr. S. L. I am glad that you approve and applaud my design of withdrawing myself from all tumult and business of the world and consecrating the little rest of my time to those studies to which nature had so motherly inclined me, and from which fortune like a step-mother has so […]
ON THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE AND UNCERTAINTY OF RICHES by Abraham Cowley
THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE AND UNCERTAINTY OF RICHES. If you should see a man who were to cross from Dover to Calais, run about very busy and solicitous, and trouble himself many weeks before in making provisions for the voyage, would you commend him for a cautious and discreet person, or laugh at him for a […]
CLAUDIAN’S OLD MAN OF VERONA by Abraham Cowley
CLAUDIAN’S OLD MAN OF VERONA. Happy the man who his whole time doth bound Within the enclosure of his little ground. Happy the man whom the same humble place (The hereditary cottage of his race) From his first rising infancy has known, And by degrees sees gently bending down, With natural propension to that earth Which […]
THE DANGERS OF AN HONEST MAN IN MUCH COMPANY by Abraham Cowley
THE DANGERS OF AN HONEST MAN IN MUCH COMPANY. If twenty thousand naked Americans were not able to resist the assaults of but twenty well-armed Spaniards, I see little possibility for one honest man to defend himself against twenty thousand knaves, who are all furnished cap-à-pie with the defensive arms of worldly prudence, and the offensive, too, of […]
The Garden by Abraham Cowley
THE GARDEN To J. Evelyn, Esquire. I never had any other desire so strong, and so like to covetousness, as that one which I have had always, that I might be master at last of a small house and large garden, with very moderate conveniences joined to them, and there dedicate the remainder of my life only to the […]
O fortunatus nimium, etc., a translation out of Virgil by Abraham Cowley
O fortunatus nimium, etc., a translation out of Virgil by Abraham Cowley Continued from the Essay on Agriculture by Abraham Cowley Virg. Georg. O fortunatus nimium, etc. A TRANSLATION OUT OF VIRGIL. Oh happy (if his happiness he knows) The country swain, on whom kind Heaven bestows At home all riches that wise Nature needs; Whom the just […]
The Essay on Agriculture by Abraham Cowley
OF AGRICULTURE. The first wish of Virgil (as you will find anon by his verses), was to be a good philosopher; the second, a good husbandman; and God (whom he seemed to understand better than most of the most learned heathens) dealt with him just as he did with Solomon: because he prayed for wisdom in […]
Obscurity, the Essay and Poems on Obscurity by Abraham Cowley
OF OBSCURITY. Nam neque divitibus contingunt gaudia solis, Nec vixit male, qui natus moriensque fefellit. God made not pleasures only for the rich, Nor have those men without their share too lived, Who both in life and death the world deceived. This seems a strange sentence thus literally translated, and looks as if it were in vindication […]
The Essay on Liberty by Abraham Cowley
OF SOLITUDE. “Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solis,” is now become a very vulgar saying. Every man and almost every boy for these seventeen hundred years has had it in his mouth. But it was at first spoken by the excellent Scipio, who was without question a most worthy, most happy, and the greatest of all […]
Hauntings by Rupert Brooke
In the grey tumult of these after years Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part; And less-than-echoes of remembered tears Hush all the loud confusion of the heart; And a shade, through the toss’d ranks of mirth and crying Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood, — Quite lost, and all but all forgot, […]
Goddess In The Wood, The by Rupert Brooke
In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood, Amazed with sorrow. Down the morning one Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun Rang out; and held; and died. . . . She thought the wood Grew quieter. Wing, and leaf, and pool of light Forgot to dance. Dumb lay the unfalling stream; […]
Flight by Rupert Brooke
Voices out of the shade that cried, And long noon in the hot calm places, And children’s play by the wayside, And country eyes, and quiet faces — All these were round my steady paces. Those that I could have loved went by me; Cool gardened homes slept in the sun; I heard the whisper […]
Finding by Rupert Brooke
From the candles and dumb shadows, And the house where love had died, I stole to the vast moonlight And the whispering life outside. But I found no lips of comfort, No home in the moon’s light (I, little and lone and frightened In the unfriendly night), And no meaning in the voices. . . […]
Failure by Rupert Brooke
Because God put His adamantine fate Between my sullen heart and its desire, I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate, Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire. Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy, But Love was as a flame about my feet; Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; […]
Dust by Rupert Brooke
When the white flame in us is gone, And we that lost the world’s delight Stiffen in darkness, left alone To crumble in our separate night; When your swift hair is quiet in death, And through the lips corruption thrust Has stilled the labour of my breath — When we are dust, when we are […]
Doubts by Rupert Brooke
When she sleeps, her soul, I know, Goes a wanderer on the air, Wings where I may never go, Leaves her lying, still and fair, Waiting, empty, laid aside, Like a dress upon a chair. . . . This I know, and yet I know Doubts that will not be denied. For if the soul […]
Dining-Room Tea by Rupert Brooke
When you were there, and you, and you, Happiness crowned the night; I too, Laughing and looking, one of all, I watched the quivering lamplight fall On plate and flowers and pouring tea And cup and cloth; and they and we Flung all the dancing moments by With jest and glitter. Lip and eye Flashed […]
Desertion by Rupert Brooke
So light we were, so right we were, so fair faith shone, And the way was laid so certainly, that, when I’d gone, What dumb thing looked up at you? Was it something heard, Or a sudden cry, that meekly and without a word You broke the faith, and strangely, weakly, slipped apart. You gave […]
Dead Men’s Love by Rupert Brooke
There was a damned successful Poet; There was a Woman like the Sun. And they were dead. They did not know it. They did not know their time was done. They did not know his hymns Were silence; and her limbs, That had served Love so well, Dust, and a filthy smell. And so one […]
Day That I Have Loved by Rupert Brooke
Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes, And smooth your quiet brow, and fold your thin dead hands. The grey veils of the half-light deepen; colour dies. I bear you, a light burden, to the shrouded sands, Where lies your waiting boat, by wreaths of the sea’s making Mist-garlanded, with all grey […]
Day And Night by Rupert Brooke
Through my heart’s palace Thoughts unnumbered throng; And there, most quiet and, as a child, most wise, High-throned you sit, and gracious. All day long Great Hopes gold-armoured, jester Fantasies, And pilgrim Dreams, and little beggar Sighs, Bow to your benediction, go their way. And the grave jewelled courtier Memories Worship and love and tend […]
Dawn by Rupert Brooke
Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat. Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar. We have been here for ever: even yet A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more. The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet With a night’s foetor. There are two hours more; Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours […]
Clouds by Rupert Brooke
Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow, Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow Up to the white moon’s hidden loveliness. Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless, And turn with profound gesture vague and slow, As who would pray good for the […]
Choriambics — II by Rupert Brooke
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void, lost in the haunted wood, I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream, Unrecaptured. For […]
Choriambics — I by Rupert Brooke
Ah! not now, when desire burns, and the wind calls, and the suns of spring Light-foot dance in the woods, whisper of life, woo me to wayfaring; Ah! not now should you come, now when the road beckons, and good friends call, Where are songs to be sung, fights to be fought, yea! and the […]
Charm, The by Rupert Brooke
In darkness the loud sea makes moan; And earth is shaken, and all evils creep About her ways. Oh, now to know you sleep! Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone, Out of the slow grim fight, One thought to wing — to you, asleep, In some cool room that’s open to the night Lying […]
Busy Heart, The by Rupert Brooke
Now that we’ve done our best and worst, and parted, I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend. (O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted) I’ll think of Love in books, Love without end; Women with child, content; and old men sleeping; And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain; And […]
Blue Evening by Rupert Brooke
My restless blood now lies a-quiver, Knowing that always, exquisitely, This April twilight on the river Stirs anguish in the heart of me. For the fast world in that rare glimmer Puts on the witchery of a dream, The straight grey buildings, richly dimmer, The fiery windows, and the stream With willows leaning quietly over, […]
Beauty and Beauty by Rupert Brooke
When Beauty and Beauty meet All naked, fair to fair, The earth is crying-sweet, And scattering-bright the air, Eddying, dizzying, closing round, With soft and drunken laughter; Veiling all that may befall After — after — Where Beauty and Beauty met, Earth’s still a-tremble there, And winds are scented yet, And memory-soft the air, Bosoming, […]
Ante Aram by Rupert Brooke
Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper, Chanting strange hymns to thee and sorrowful litanies, Incense of dirges, prayers that are as holy myrrh. Ah, goddess, on thy throne of tears and faint low sighs, Weary at last to theeward come the feet that err, And empty hearts grown tired of the world’s vanities. […]
And love has changed to kindliness by Rupert Brooke
When love has changed to kindliness — Oh, love, our hungry lips, that press So tight that Time’s an old god’s dream Nodding in heaven, and whisper stuff Seven million years were not enough To think on after, make it seem Less than the breath of children playing, A blasphemy scarce worth the saying, A […]
A Memory by Rupert Brooke
(From a sonnet-sequence) Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept Softly along the dim way to your room, And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom, And holiness about you as you slept. I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept About my head, and held it. I had rest Unhoped this side of […]