Age poems
/ page 40 of 145 /Southampton Castle
© William Lisle Bowles
INSCRIBED TO THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE.
The moonlight is without; and I could lose
Merlin And Vivien
© Alfred Tennyson
A storm was coming, but the winds were still,
And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork,
At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.
To An Oak At Newstead
© George Gordon Byron
Young Oak! when I planted thee deep in the ground,
I hoped that thy days would be longer than mine;
That thy dark‑waving branches would flourish around,
And ivy thy trunk with its mantle entwine.
St. Dorothy
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
And Theophile burnt in the cheek, and said:
Yea, could one see it, this were marvellous.
I pray you, at your coming to this house,
Give me some leaf of all those tree-branches;
Seeing how so sharp and white our weather is,
There is no green nor gracious red to see.
The Shadowy Waters: The Shadowy Waters
© William Butler Yeats
Second Sailor. And I had thought to make
A good round Sum upon this cruise, and turn
For I am getting on in lifeto something
That has less ups and downs than robbery.
The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms
© George Crabbe
floor.
Here his poor bird th' inhuman Cocker brings,
Arms his hard heel and clips his golden wings;
With spicy food th' impatient spirit feeds,
And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds.
Struck through the brain, deprived of both his
Culver Dell And The Squire
© William Barnes
There's noo pleäce I do like so well,
As Elem Knap in Culver Dell,
Who
© Sri Aurobindo
In the blue of the sky, in the green of the forest,
Whose is the hand that has painted the glow?
When the winds were asleep in the womb of the ether,
Who was it roused them and bade them to blow?
The Stranger (La Extranjera)
© Gabriela Mistral
She speaks in her way of her savage seas
With unknown algae and unknown sands;
Rural Morning
© John Clare
And now, when toil and summer's in its prime,
In every vill, at morning's earliest time,
To early-risers many a Hodge is seen,
And many a Dob's heard clattering oer the green.
The Tram (In The Midlands)
© Robert Laurence Binyon
III
A boy with a bunch of primroses!
He sits uneasy, flushed of cheek,
With wandering eyes and does not speak:
His hands are hot; the flowers are his.
The Negro's Complaint
© William Cowper
Forc'd from home and all its pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn;
Italy : 7. Marguerite De Tours
© Samuel Rogers
Now the grey granite, starting through the snow,
Discovered many a variegated moss
That to the pilgrim resting on his staff
Shadows our capes and islands; and ere long
The Spirit Of Navigation
© William Lisle Bowles
Stern Father of the storm! who dost abide
Amid the solitude of the vast deep,
L'Homme Et La Mer (Man And The Sea)
© Charles Baudelaire
Homme libre, toujours tu chériras la mer!
La mer est ton miroir; tu contemples ton âme
Dans le déroulement infini de sa lame,
Et ton esprit n'est pas un gouffre moins amer.
In The British Museum
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Shafts of light, that poured from the August sun,
Glowed on long red walls of the gallery cool;
Fell upon monstrous visions of ages gone,
Still, smiling Sphinx, winged and bearded Bull.
Queen Mab: Part IV.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh,
Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear,
The Loom of Years
© Alfred Noyes
In the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea,
In the weary cry of the wind and the whisper of flower and tree,