All Poems
/ page 268 of 3210 /The Poetry of A Root Crop
© Charles Kingsley
Underneath their eider-robe
Russet swede and golden globe,
When Underneath the Brown Dead Grass
© Henry Kendall
When underneath the brown dead grass
My weary bones are laid,
The College Serenade
© George Ade
When the chapel bell struck the midnight hour
And the campus lay asleep,
Thirty Years After
© Robert Fuller Murray
Two old St. Andrews men, after a separation of nearly thirty years, meet by chance at a wayside inn. They interchange experiences; and at length one of them, who is an admirer of Mr. Swinburne's Poems and Ballads, speaks as follows:
If you were now a bejant,
And I a first year man,
We'd grind and grub together
A Dream Of Summer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Bland as the morning breath of June
The southwest breezes play;
What Bird So Sings
© Thomas Dekker
What bird so sings, yet so does wail,
'Tis Philomel the Nightingale;
Hark, All Ye Lovely Saints Above
© Thomas Weelkes
Hark, all ye lovely saints above,
Diana hath agreed with Love,
His fiery weapon to remove. Fa la.
Do you not see
How they agree?
Then cease, fair ladies; why weep ye? Fa la.
A War Song to Englishmen
© William Blake
Prepare, prepare the iron helm of war,
Bring forth the lots, cast in the spacious orb;
Th' Angel of Fate turns them with mighty hands,
And casts them out upon the darken'd earth!
Prepare, prepare!
A Very Mournful Ballad On The Siege And Conquest Of Alhama
© George Gordon Byron
I
THE Moorish King rides up and down,
Through Granada's royal town;
From Elvira's gate to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama!
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XLVIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
I think there never was a dearer woman,
A better, kinder, truer than you were,
A gentler spirit more divinely human
Worth And The Worthy
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
If thou anything hast, let me have it,-I'll pay what is proper;
If thou anything art, let us our spirits exchange.
May Night
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Come, let us forth, and wander the rich, the murmuring night!
The shy, blue dusk of summer trembles above the street;
On either side uprising glimmer houses pale:
But me the turbulent babble and voice of crowds delight;
For me the wheels make music, the mingled cries are sweet;
Motion and laughter call: we hear, we will not fail.
The National Anthem
© William Schwenck Gilbert
A monarch is pestered with cares,
Though, no doubt, he can often trepan them;
The Suicides Grave
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
This is the scene of a man's despair, and a soul's release
From the difficult traits of the flesh; so, it seeking peace,
Love and Sorrow
© James Russell Lowell
I thought our love at full, but I did err;
Joy's wreath drooped o'er mine eyes; I could not see
Snow Dance For The Dead
© Lola Ridge
Dance, little children ... it is holy twilight . . .
Have you hung paper flowers about the necks of the ikons?
Dance soft . . . but very gaily ... on tip-toes like the snow.
To Evening
© Sappho
O HESPERUS! Thou bring'st all things home;
All that the garish day hath scattered wide;
The sheep, the goat, back to the welcome fold;
Thou bring'st the child, too, to his mother's side.
The Crusader's Return
© Sir Walter Scott
High deeds achieved of knightly fame,
From Palestine the champion came;
The Only Son
© Sir Henry Newbolt
O bitter wind toward the sunset blowing,
What of the dales tonight?
In yonder gray old hall what fires are glowing,
What ring of festal lights?