Age poems
/ page 15 of 145 /Hero And Leander: The First Sestiad
© Christopher Marlowe
On Hellespont, guilty of true-love's blood,
In view and opposite two cities stood,
The Silver Horn
© Henry Clay Work
"Come, rest with me now, my silver horn!
My melodious joy, my silver horn!
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
ROUMELI HISSAR
The Empire of the East, grown dull to fear
By long companionship with angry fate,
In silent anguish saw her doom appear
Microcosm
© Edith Nesbit
SHE and I--we kissed and vowed
That should be which could not be;
Just as if mere vows endowed
Love with immortality!
Ah, had vows but kept us true,
As we thought them sure to do!
Queen Mab: Part IX.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Earth floated then below;
The chariot paused a moment there;
The Spirit then descended;
The restless coursers pawed the ungenial soil,
Snuffed the gross air, and then, their errand done,
Unfurled their pinions to the winds of heaven.
Sir Eldred Of The Bower : A Legendary Tale: In Two Parts
© Hannah More
There was a young and valiant Knight,
Sir Eldred was his name;
And never did a worthier wight
The rank of knighthood claim.
The Butterfly's Ball And The Grasshopper's Feast
© William Roscoe
Come take up your Hats, and away let us haste
To the Butterfly's Ball, and the Grasshopper's Feast.
The Trumpeter, Gad-fly, has summon'd the Crew,
And the Revels are now only waiting for you.
Book Seventh [Residence in London]
© William Wordsworth
Returned from that excursion, soon I bade
Farewell for ever to the sheltered seats
Of gowned students, quitted hall and bower,
And every comfort of that privileged ground,
Well pleased to pitch a vagrant tent among
The unfenced regions of society.
Some Lover To Some Beloved!
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Although my sight knows that the wish is just a farce
For if ever it were to run across your eyes again
right there will spring forth another pathway
Like always, where ever we run into, there will begin
another journey of your lock's shadow, your embrace's tremor
Metamorphoses: Book The Third
© Ovid
The End of the Third Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Ilicet
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THERE is an end of joy and sorrow;
Peace all day long, all night, all morrow,
But never a time to laugh or weep.
The end is come of pleasant places,
The end of tender words and faces,
The end of all, the poppied sleep.
"This dainty instrument, this tabletoy"
© Richard Monckton Milnes
This dainty instrument, this table--toy,
Might seem best fitted for the use and joy
Of some high Ladie in old gallant times,
Or gay--learned weaver of Provencal rhymes:
The Muses Threnodie: Second Muse
© Henry Adamson
Then thus, quod I, good Gall, I pray thee show,
For cleerly all antiquities yee know:
What mean these skonses, and these hollow trenches,
Throughout these fallow fields and yonder inches?
And these great heaps of stones like piramids,
Doubtless all these ye knew, that so much reads;
Miriam
© John Greenleaf Whittier
But over Akbar's brows the frown hung black,
And, turning to the eunuch at his back,
"Take them," he said, "and let the Jumna's waves
Hide both my shame and these accursed slaves!"
His loathly length the unsexed bondman bowed
"On my head be it!"
Vashti
© James Weldon Johnson
Once when my eyes met yours it seemed that in
your cheek, despite your pride,
A flush arose and swiftly died; or was it something that I dreamed?
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book III
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Night.
O Trivia, goddess, leave these low abodes,