All Poems
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Umbria
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Deep Italian day with a wide--washed splendour fills
Umbria green with valleys, blue with a hundred hills.
Dim in the south Soracte, a far rock faint as a cloud
Rumours Rome, that of old spoke over earth, ``Thou art mine!''
Effigy Of A Nun
© Sara Teasdale
Infinite gentleness, infinite irony
Are in this face with fast-sealed eyes,
And round this mouth that learned in loneliness
How useless their wisdom is to the wise.
Hellenistics
© Robinson Jeffers
I look at the Greek-derived design that nourished my infancy
this Wedgwood copy of the Portland vase:
Someone had given it to my father my eyes at five years old
used to devour it by the hour.
Virtue and Happiness in the Country
© Michael Bruce
How blest the man who, in these peaceful plains,
Ploughs his paternal field; far from the noise,
Little White Rose
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Little white rose that I loved, I loved,
Roisin ban, Roisin ban!
The Reverend Simon Magus
© William Schwenck Gilbert
A rich advowson, highly prized,
For private sale was advertised;
And many a parson made a bid;
The REVEREND SIMON MAGUS did.
Margaret Love Peacock, for her tombstone, 1826
© Thomas Love Peacock
Long night succeeds thy little day;
Oh blighted blossom! can it be,
That this grey stone, and grassy clay,
Have clos'd our anxious care of thee?
My Cousin From Pall Mall
© Arthur Patchett Martin
Theres nothing so exasperates a true Australian youth,
Whatever be his rank in life, be he cultured or uncouth,
As the manner of a London swell. Now it chanced, the other day,
That one came out, consigned to mea cousin, by the way.
The Cup Of Comus
© Madison Julius Cawein
PROEM
THE Nights of song and story,
With breath of frost and rain,
Whose locks are wild and hoary,
Our Boyhood Haunts
© James Whitcomb Riley
Ho! I'm going back to where
We were youngsters.--Meet me there,
To Erinna
© Sara Teasdale
Was Time not harsh to you, or was he kind,
O pale Erinna of the perfect lyre,
At Port Royal
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The tent-lights glimmer on the land,
The ship-lights on the sea;
The night-wind smooths with drifting sand
Our track on lone Tybee.
Delia. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives,
When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives,
To The Lacedemonians
© Allen Tate
Go you tell them
That we their servants, well-trained, gray-coated
And haired (both foot and horse) or in
The grave, them obey . . . obey them,
What commands?
"`Know, Nature, like the cuckoo, laughs at law"
© Alfred Austin
`Know, Nature, like the cuckoo, laughs at law,
Placing her eggs in whatso nest she will;
And when, at callow-time, you think to find
The sparrow's stationary chirp, lo! bursts
Voyaging voice to glorify the Spring.'
The Shortness Of Life
© Francis Quarles
And what's a life? A weary pilgrimage,
Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage
With childhood, manhood, and decrepit age.
"Now I've been three days"
© Lesbia Harford
Now I've been three days
In the place where I am staying,
I've taken up new ways
Land-owning and flute playing.
