All Poems
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Written On A Ladys Fan
© Henry James Pye
In ancient times when like La Mancha's Knight
The adventurous Hero sallied forth to fight,
Stanzas
© Henry Kendall
The sunsets fall and the sunsets fade,
But still I walk this shadowy land;
And grapple the dark and only the dark
In my search for a loving hand.
The Authors: A Satire
© Richard Savage
"HOLD, Criticks cry-Erroneous are your Lays,
"Your Field was Satire, your Pursuit is Praise."
True, you Profound!-I praise, but yet I sneer;
You're dark to Beauties, if to Errors clear!
Know my Lampoon's in Panegyric seen,
For just Applause turns Satire on your Spleen.
Jacinths And Jessamines
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Jacinths and jessamines and jonquils sweet,
All odorous pale flowers from Orient lands,
No vain red roses strew I at thy feet,
Emblems of grief and thee, with reverent hands.
To My Mother
© John Le Gay Brereton
Once more the Christian festival is near,
And I, for whom each day repeats all days
For An Allegorical Dance Of Women By Andrea Mantegna
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
(In the Louvre)
SCARCELY, I think; yet it indeed may be
Song Of The Hindustanee Minstrel
© Henry Louis Vivian Derozio
With surmah tinge the black eye's fringe,
'Twill sparkle like a star;
With roses dress each raven tress,
My only loved Dildar!
Lois House
© Julia A Moore
Come all ye young people of every degree,
Come give your attention one moment to me;
It's of a young couple I now will relate,
And of their misfortunes and of their sad fate.
Common Sense
© James Thomas Fields
She came among the gathering crowd,
A maiden fair, without pretence,
And when they asked her humble name,
She whispered mildly, Common Sense.
The Merman (From The Old Danish)
© George Borrow
Do thou, dear Mother, contrive amain
How Marsk Stigs daughter I may gain.
Sonnet III.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
AH, happy time! when music bound in one
Two kindred souls that ne'er were out of tune:
When in the porch, beneath the summer moon,
Our supper o'er, our school-boy lessons done,
The Masters
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
OH, who is the Lord of the land of life,
When hotly goes the fray?
The Poor Man's Guest
© Edith Nesbit
ONE came to me in royal guise
With banners flying fair and free
But many griefs had made me wise
And I refused to bow the knee.
Poem 5
© Kabir
PLAYED day and night with my comrades, and now I am greatly afraid.
So high is my Lord's palace, my heart trembles to mount its stairs: yet I must not be shy, if I would enjoy His love.
My heart must cleave to my Lover; I must withdraw my veil, and meet Him with all my body:
Mine eyes must perform the ceremony of the lamps of love.
Kabîr says: "Listen to me, friend: he understands who loves. If you feel not love's longing for your Beloved One, it is vain to adorn your body, vain to put unguent on your eyelids."
The Witch of Hebron
© Charles Harpur
Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare
Of Indian and Armenian workmanship
Which might have seemed a wonder of the world:
And trains of servitors of every clime,
Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians,
In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls.
Feud
© Madison Julius Cawein
A mile of lane,--hedged high with iron-weeds
And dying daisies,--white with sun, that leads
Downward into a wood; through which a stream
Steals like a shadow; over which is laid
A bridge of logs, worn deep by many a team,
Sunk in the tangled shade.
