All Poems
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Imitation of a Welsh Poem
© Padraic Colum
AND that was when the chevaldour
Through the whole of night
Sang, for the moon of mid-July
Made the hillside bright.
Parody On The Recorders Speech To His Grace The Duke Of Ormond, 4th July, 1711
© Jonathan Swift
An ancient metropolis, famous of late
For opposing the Church, and for nosing the State,
For protecting sedition and rejecting order,
Made the following speech by their mouth, the Recorder:
First, to tell you the name of this place of renown,
Some still call it Dublin, but most Forster's town.
To the Butterfly
© Samuel Rogers
Child of the sun! pursue thy rapturous flight,
Mingling with her thou lov'st in fields of light;
And, where the flowers of paradise unfold,
Quaff fragrant nectar from their cups of gold.
Ballade 2
© Eustache Deschamps
Prince, it's clear a spice like clove
can drop its guard. It won't be busted.
There's just one thing these people serve:
Always, never asking, mustard.
The Fairy Queen Sleeping. By Stothard
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
She lay upon a bank, the favourite haunt
Of the spring wind in its first sunshine hour,
Spanish Song
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Nay, Inez, no more persuade;
Those are sounds that to glory should move:
Forfeits
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
They sent him round the circle fair,
To bow before the prettiest there.
Im bound to say the choice he made
A creditable taste displayed;
AlthoughI cant say what it meant
The little maid looked ill-content.
The Faithless Knight
© Caroline Norton
THE lady she sate in her bower alone,
And she gaz'd from the lattice window high,
Where a white steed's hoofs were ringing on,
With a beating heart, and a smother'd sigh.
To the Earl of Warwick, On the Death of Mr. Addison
© Thomas Tickell
. If, dumb too long, the drooping Muse hath stay'd,
And left her debt to Addison unpaid;
Susanna And Lucretia
© Samuel Boyse
Susanna, take Lucretia's boasted Place,
Superior Virtue claims superior Pow'r!
Sonnet LXXXIV. To The Muse
© Charlotte Turner Smith
WILT thou forsake me who in life's bright May
Lent warmer lustre to the radiant morn;
And even o'er summer scenes by tempests torn,
Shed with illusive light the dewy ray
Meditations of a Hindu Prince
© Alfred Comyn Lyall
ALL the world over, I wonder, in lands that I never have trod,
Are the people eternally seeking for the signs and steps of a God?
Weather Of The Soul
© Bliss William Carman
THERE is a world of being
We range from pole to pole,
Through seasons of the spirit
And weather of the soul.
Lines Written In A Lady's Album
© Joseph Rodman Drake
GRANT me, I cried, some spell of art,
To turn with all a lover's care,
That spotless page, my Eva's heart,
And write my burning wishes there.
The Canterbury Tales; PROLOGUE
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
Sonnet To Harriet St. Leger
© Frances Anne Kemble
Whene'er I recollect the happy time
When you and I held converse dear together,
Fragment: To The People Of England
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
PEOPLE of England, ye who toil and groan,
Who reap the harvests which are not your own,
In France
© Francis Ledwidge
The silence of maternal hills
Is round me in my evening dreams ;
And round me music-making bills
And mingling waves of pastoral streams.
