All Poems
/ page 237 of 3210 /"Dank fens of cedar..."
© Frederick Goddard Tuckerman
Dank fens of cedar, hemlock-branches gray
With tress and trail of mosses wringing-wet;
Song of the Guitar.
© Bai Juyi
In the tenth year of Yuanhe I was banished and demoted to be assistant official in Jiujiang. In the summer of the next year I was seeing a friend leave Penpu and heard in the midnight from a neighbouring boat a guitar played in the manner of the capital. Upon inquiry, I found that the player had formerly been a dancing-girl there and in her maturity had been married to a merchant. I invited her to my boat to have her play for us. She told me her story, heyday and then unhappiness. Since my departure from the capital I had not felt sad; but that night, after I left her, I began to realize my banishment. And I wrote this long poem - six hundred and twelve characters.
I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River,
Dedication
© Alfred Tennyson
Dedication
These to His Memory-since he held them dear,
Perchance as finding there unconsciously
Some image of himself-I dedicate,
I dedicate, I consecrate with tears-
These Idylls.
Creeds
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
FRIEND, 'mid the complex and unnumbered creeds
Which meet and jostle on this mortal scene,
And sometimes fight a l'outrance, I perceive
Some precious seed of truth ennobling all:
Trade Circular
© Kenneth Slessor
(To the Poets' Ladies)
SHALL I give you the Bourbon-sugars
Of sherry and yellow sky
And a girl in a country curricle
Dusk
© Madison Julius Cawein
Corn-colored clouds upon a sky of gold,
And 'mid their sheaves,-where, like a daisy-bloom
The Fate of the Explorers (A Fragment)
© Henry Kendall
Through that night he uttered little, rambling were the words he spoke:
And he turned and died in silence, when the tardy morning broke.
Many memories come together whilst in sight of death we dwell,
Much of sweet and sad reflection through the weary mind must well.
As those long hours glided past him, till the east with light was fraught,
Who may know the mournful secret who can tell us what he thought?
Lines Written After A Walk Before Supper
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Tho' much averse, dear Jack, to flicker,
To find a likeness for friend V----ker,
I've made, thro' earth, and air, and sea,
A voyage of discovery!
To Shakespeare (III)
© Frances Anne Kemble
Shelter and succour such as common men
Afford the weaker partners of their fate,
Mirandas Tomb
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
MIRANDA? She died soon, and sick for home.
And dark Ilario the Milanese
The 5th Satire Of Book I. Of Horace : A Humorous Description Of The Author's Journey From Rome To Br
© William Cowper
'Twas a long journey lay before us,
When I and honest Heliodorus,
The Ruin And Its Flowers
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Breathe, fragrance! breathe, enrich the air,
Tho' wasted on its wing unknown!
Blow, flow'rets! blow, tho' vainly fair,
Neglected and alone!
And, the Last Day Being Come
© Trumbull Stickney
And, the last day being come, Man stood alone
Ere sunrise on the world's dismantled verge,
Awaiting how from everywhere should urge
The Coming of the Lord. And, behold, none
Afterwards.
© Arthur Henry Adams
NOW that our pathways sever here,
And mine slopes down across the night,
Whence I shall see you burning clear
A beacon on the mountain-height
Progress
© George Meredith
In Progress you have little faith, say you:
Men will maintain dear interests, wreak base hates,
In India's Dreamy Land
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In India's land one listens aghast
To the people who scream and bawl;
For each caste yells at a lower caste,
And the Britisher yells at them all.