Poems on the topic: friendship

Poems on the topic “friendship” on Poets.by.

DreamyEdwin Arlington Robinson

Boys

We were all boys, and three of us were friends; And we were more than friends, it seemed to me: -- Yes, we were more than brothers then, we three. . . . Brothers? . . . But we were boys, and there it ends.
SadEdgar Lee Masters

Hare Drummer

Do the boys and girls still go to Siever’s For cider, after school, in late September? Or gather hazel nuts among the thickets On Aaron Hatfield’s farm when the frosts begin? For many times with the laughing girls and boys Played I along the road and over the hills When the sun was low and the air was cool, Stopping to club the walnut tree Standing leafless against a flaming west. Now, the smell of the autumn smoke, And the dropping acorns, And the echoes about the vales Bring dreams of life. They hover over me. They question me: Where are those laughing comrades?
ContemplativeEdgar Lee Masters

The Unknown

Ye aspiring ones, listen to the story of the unknown Who lies here with no stone to mark the place. As a boy reckless and wanton, Wandering with gun in hand through the forest Near the mansion of Aaron Hatfield, I shot a hawk perched on the top Of a dead tree. He fell with guttural cry At my feet, his wing broken. Then I put him in a cage Where he lived many days cawing angrily at me When I offered him food. Daily I search the realms of Hades For the soul of the hawk, That I may offer him the friendship Of one whom life wounded and caged.
CheerfulC. Fox Smith

Traveller's Rest

When you are tired of the long road and the open sky, I wish it may be my door that you're passing by : I wish it may be my hearth where you will sit down And tell your tales of the land and sea and the strange far town. Oh, come you in from eastward or come you from the west, Here's good cheer to greet you and welcome of the best: Oh come you with your pockets full or come you home poor. Here's a place by the fireside and an open door. You'll tell me where you were since, and the things you've seen Up and down the wide world where so long you've been, — All the time that I've been here and you far away, — And then awhile be silent, as good friends may. And then awhile listen to the wind and rain,
InspiredAnne Spencer

Translation

We trekked into a far country, My friend and I. Our deeper content was never spoken, But each knew all the other said. He told me how calm his soul was laid By the lack of anvil and strife. "The wooing kestrel," I said, "mutes his mating-note To please the harmony of this sweet silence." And when at the day's end We laid tired bodies 'gainst The loose warm sands, And the air fleeced its particles for a coverlet; When star after star came out To guard their lovers in oblivion-- My soul so leapt that my evening prayer Stole my morning song!
ContemplativeAnne Spencer

I Have a Friend

I have a friend And my heart from hence Is closed to friendship, Nor the gods’ knees hold but one; He watches with me thru the long night, And when I call he comes, Or when he calls I am there; He does not ask me how beloved Are my husband and children, Nor ever do I require Details of life and love In the grave--his home,-- We are such friends.
AngryAnna Wickham

Traducers

Kinder the enemy who must malign us, Than the smug friend who will define us
AngryWilliam Shakespeare

Sonnet 133: Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! Is't not enough to torture me alone, But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, And my next self thou harder hast engross'd: Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken; A torment thrice three-fold thus to be cross'd: Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail; Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail: And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.
ContemplativeWilliam Shakespeare

Sonnet 111: O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide

O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdu'd To what it works in, like the dyer's hand: Pity me, then, and wish I were renew'd; Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink, Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection; No bitterness that I will bitter think, Nor double penance, to correct correction. Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye, Even that your pity is enough to cure me.
SadWilliam Shakespeare

Sonnet 42: That thou hast her it is not all my grief

That thou hast her it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, A loss in love that touches me more nearly. Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye: Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her; And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her. If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain, And losing her, my friend hath found that loss; Both find each other, and I lose both twain, And both for my sake lay on me this cross: But here's the joy; my friend and I are one; Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.
SadWilliam Shakespeare

Sonnet 30: When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.
ContemplativeWilliam Topaz McGonagall

Farewell Address at the Argyle Hall

Fellow Citizens of Dundee. I now must bid farewell to ye. For I am going to London far away. But when I will return again I cannot say. Farewell! Farewell! to the bonnie banks o' the Silvery Tay. Also the beautiful Hill o' Balgay. And the ill fated Bridge o' the Silvery Tay. Which I will remember when I am far away. Farewell! to my friends and, patrons all. That rallied around me in the Music Hall. And those that has rallied around me to night, I shall not forget when out of sight. And, if I ever return to Dundee again, I hope it will be with the laurels of fame. Plac'd on my brow by dame fortune that fickle Jade. And, to Court her favour I am not afraid.

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