No work and no alarm clocks — yes, we all love weekends! Here are famous poems all about weekends.
Edith Nesbit was born August 15, 1858 in London and had an intriguing portfolio of literature. Primarily a children’s writer, she also wrote poetry, literature for adults, short stories, and horror. As a children’s writer, her style was humorous and magical — much like her weekend poem, Saturday Song.
A setting of Saturday, the poem is a love story and an appreciation of market barrows rolled up in one.
They talk about gardens of roses,
And moonlight over the sea,
And mountains and snow
And sunsetty glow,
But I know what is best for me.
The prettiest sight I know,
Worth all your roses and snow,
Is the blaze of light on a Saturday night,
When the barrows are set in a row.
I’ve heard of bazaars in India
All glitter and spices and smells,
But they don’t compare
With the naphtha flare
And the herrings the coster sells;
And the oranges piled like gold,
The cucumbers lean and cold,
And the red and white block-trimmings
And the strawberries fresh and ripe,
And the peas and beans,
And the sprouts and greens,
And the ‘taters and trotters and tripe.
And the shops where they sell the chairs,
The mangles and tables and bedding,
And the lovers go by in pairs,
And look–and think of the wedding.
And your girl has her arm in yours,
And you whisper and make her blush.
Oh! the snap in her eyes–and her smiles and her sighs
As she fancies the purple plush!
And you haven’t a penny to spend,
But you dream that you’ve pounds and pounds;
And arm in arm with your only friend
You make your Saturday rounds:
And you see the cradle bright
With ribbon–lace–pink and white;
And she stops her laugh
And you drop your chaff
In the light of the Saturday night.
And the world is new
For her and you –
A little bit of all-right.
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Some keep the Sabbath going to Church
If I could sit down and talk with any poet – dead or alive, Emily Dickinson quickly comes to mind. A large voice in American poetry, Emily’s poems are highly praised and researched. Born December 10, 1830 in Amherst, Massachusetts, the history of her life is intriguing and for historians, much of it is unknown.
However, it wasn’t a secret that she was isolated and never ventured out much, staying in her bedroom and hardly leaving the property. In those reclusive years, Emily wrote a lot of poetry, including this religious piece about Sunday worship.
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
I keep it, staying at Home –
With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
And an Orchard, for a Dome –
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice –
I, just wear my Wings –
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton – sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman –
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last –
I’m going, all along.
Charlotte Brontë is just one of many faces of classic literature, Jane Eyre being part of English course curriculum. Born April 21, 1816, Charlotte wrote both fiction and poetry. Her poetic portfolio includes, Life, a poem that uplifts and showcases a positive, inspiring tone.
While no mention of the weekend, this poem can be just what you need to lift your mood as you ease into Friday or even the dreadful Monday. And if your weekend begins a bit rainy and gloomy, this piece of literature is certainly for you!
Life, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall?
Life’s sunny hours flit by,
Enjoy them as they fly!
What though Death at times steps in,
And calls our Best away?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O’er hope, a heavy sway?
Yet Hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair!