Age poems
/ page 36 of 145 /
The Prairie Battlements
© Vachel Lindsay
Alice has a prarie grave.
The King and Queen lie low,
And aged Grandma Silver Dreams,
Four toombstones in a row.
But still in snow and sunshine
Stands our ancestral hall.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 20
© William Langland
Thanne as I wente by the way, whan I was thus awaked,
Hevy chered I yede, and elenge in herte;
The Complaint of Nature
© John Logan
Few are thy days and full of woe,
O man of woman born!
Thy doom is written, "Dust thou art,
And shalt to dust return."
The Bridal of Pennacook
© John Greenleaf Whittier
No bridge arched thy waters save that where the trees
Stretched their long arms above thee and kissed in the breeze:
No sound save the lapse of the waves on thy shores,
The plunging of otters, the light dip of oars.
The Tournament. An Interlude
© Thomas Chatterton
BERGHAMME.
Nowe, nowe, Syrr Knyghte, attoure thie beeveredd eyne,
I have borne downe, and efte doe gauntlette thee.
Swythenne begynne, and wrynn thie shappe orr myne;
Gyff thou dyscomfytte, ytt wylle dobblie bee.
The Golden Age
© Alfred Austin
Nor this the worst! When ripened Shame would hide
Fruits of that hour when Passion conquered Pride,
There are not wanting in this Christian land
The breast remorseless and the Thuggish hand,
To advertise the dens where Death is sold,
And quench the breath of baby-life for gold!
Our Saviours Boyhood
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
With what a flood of wondrous thoughts
Each Christian breast must swell
When, wandering back through ages past,
With simple faith they dwell
On quiet Nazareths sacred sod,
Where the Child Saviours footsteps trod.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 03
© Torquato Tasso
XXVI
"Turks, Persians conquered, Antiochia won,
The Infinite
© Giacomo Leopardi
This solitary hill has always been dear to me
And this hedge, which prevents me from seeing most of
A Thrush Before Dawn
© Alice Meynell
A voice peals in this end of night
A phrase of notes resembling stars,
Single and spiritual notes of light.
What call they at my window-bars?
The South, the past, the day to be,
An ancient infelicity.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: XCIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
YOUTH
Youth, ageless youth, the old gods' attribute!
--To inherit cheeks a--tingle with such blood
As wood nymphs blushed, who to the first--blown flute
A Thousand Years From Now
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I SAT within my tranquil room;
The twilight shadows sank and rose
With slowly flickering motions, waved
Grotesquely through the dusk repose;
The Chaperon
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
I take my chaperon to the play--
She thinks she's taking me.
And the gilded youth who owns the box,
A proud young man is he;
Lycus the Centaur
© Thomas Hood
FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS
(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.
© Matthew Prior
Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.
Alaric In Italy
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Heard ye the Gothic trumpet's blast?
The march of hosts as Alaric passed?
Comfort
© Walter de la Mare
As I mused by the hearthside,
Puss said to me;
"there burns the fire , man,
and here sit we.
When I was Young and Ignorant
© Patrick Barrington
When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall,
Our days were spent in happiness, although our means were frugal;
