Oldest Rhyming Poems
These are translations of some of the oldest rhyming poems, both English rhyming poems and ancient rhyming poems from other languages.
Translations of the Oldest Rhyming Poems in the English Language
Reiver's Wedding, The: a Fragment
O, will ye hear a mirthful bourd?
Or will ye hear how a gallant lord
Was wedded to a gay ladye?
" Ca' out the kye," quo' the village herd,
As he stood on the knowe,
" Ca' this ane 's nine and that ane 's ten,
And bauld Lord William's cow."
" Ah! by my sooth," quoth William then,
" And stands it that way now,
When knave and churl have nine and ten,
That the lord has but his cow?
" I swear by the light of the Michaelmas moon,
And the might of Mary high,
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The Simple Peasant.
Gossip, you'll like to hear, no doubt!
A learned work has just come out--
Messias is the name 'twill bear;
The man has travelled through the air,
And on the sun-beplastered roads
Has lost shoe-leather by whole loads,--
Has seen the heavens lie open wide,
And hell has traversed with whole hide.
The thought has just occurred to me
That one so skilled as he must be
May tell us how our flax and wheat arise.
What say you?--Shall I try to ascertain?
LUKE.
You fool, to think that any one so wise
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Now
TAKE as you will, slake, solace, and possess
While Youth, with laughter, scatters tears that fall
Sudden and shaken sometimes at your call;
Pledge me in passion and in gentleness,--
In praise and prayer, I would not give you less,
Be less unconquerably true in all,
Take my young kisses,--my young spirit's thrall,
Forbid not Now's imperishable "Yes"!
When I am old, and cold, and wise, and grown
As far beyond as you outstrip me now,--
Nor plead, nor pant, nor challenge nor protest;
Oh, come not then, all these years less your own;
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Far West Emigrant
I.
Mine eye is weary of the plains
Of verdure vast and wide
That stretch around me—lovely, calm,
From morn till even-tide;
And I recall with aching heart
My childhood’s village home;
Its cottage roofs and garden plots,
Its brooks of silver foam.
II.
True glowing verdure smiles around,
And this rich virgin soil
Gives stores of wealth in quick return
For hours of careless toil;
But oh! the reaper’s joyous song
Ne’er mounts to Heaven’s dome,
For unknown is the mirth and joy
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