Inaugural Poems: Excerpts from former Inauguration Day poems

Excerpts from former Inauguration Day poems

The Gift Outright, for John F. Kennedy, 1961, by Robert Frost

The land was ours before we were the land's.

She was our land more than a hundred years

Before we were her people. She was ours

In Massachusetts, in Virginia,

But we were England's, still colonials...

(NB from the poem Frost recited from memory, not the one he had written for the occasion)

On the Pulse of Morning, for Bill Clinton, 1993, by Maya Angelou

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot...

You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought

Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare

Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,

Which will not be moved.

Of History and Hope, for Bill Clinton, 1997, by Miller Williams

We have memorised America,

how it was born and who we have been and where.

In ceremonies and silence we say the words,

telling the stories, singing the old songs.

We like the places they take us. Mostly we do.

The great and all the anonymous dead are there.

We know the sound of all the sounds we brought.

From 'Ars Poetica: #100. I Believe', 2005, by Elizabeth Alexander

Poetry is what you find

in the dirt in the corner,

overhear on the bus, God

in the details, the only way

to get from here to there.

Poetry (and now my voice is rising)

is not all love, love, love,

and I'm sorry the dog died.

Poetry (here I hear myself loudest)

is the human voice,

and are we not of interest to each other?