Age poems

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The Ages

© William Cullen Bryant

I.

  When to the common rest that crowns our days,

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Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts III.-V.

© John Logan

What venerable father stands aghast
In yonder porch? Beneath the weight of years,
And crush of sorrow to the earth he bends.
He wrings his hands; casts a wild look to heaven,
And rends his hoary locks.  He comes this way.
Heavens, it is Albemarle!-

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The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto VI.

© Sir Walter Scott

XI
  Albert Graeme.
It was an English ladye bright,
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,)
And she would marry a Scottish knight,
For Love will still be lord of all.

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Paradise Lost : Book VII.

© John Milton


Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name

If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine

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The Bowge of Courte

© John Skelton

In Autumpne whan the sonne in vyrgyne

By radyante hete enryped hath our corne

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History

© William Watson

Here, peradventure, in this mirror glassed,

Who gazes long and well at times beholds

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Saint Romualdo

© Emma Lazarus

I give God thanks that I, a lean old man,

Wrinkled, infirm, and crippled with keen pains

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Modern Love

© George Meredith

I

By this he knew she wept with waking eyes:

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On The Death Of Mrs. Elizabeth Filmer. An Elegiacall Epitaph

© Richard Lovelace

  You that shall live awhile, before
Old time tyrs, and is no more:
When that this ambitious stone
Stoopes low as what it tramples on:

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California City Landscape

© Carl Sandburg

On a mountain-side the real estate agents

  Put up signs marking the city lots to be sold there.

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Bonduca

© Beaumont and Fletcher

{Bonduca the British queen, taking occasion from a defeat of the Romans to impeach their valor, is rebuked by Caratac.}

Queen Bonduca, I do not grieve your fortune.

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The Swamp Angel

© Herman Melville

There is a coal-black Angel

  With a thick Afric lip,

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The Island: Canto II.

© George Gordon Byron

I.

How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,

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The Muses Threnodie: Third Muse

© Henry Adamson

These be the first memorials of a bridge,
Good Monsier, that we truely can alledge.
Thus spoke good Gall, and I did much rejoyce
To hear him these antiquities disclose;
Which I remembering now, of force must cry—
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?

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Introduction To The True-Born Englishman

© Daniel Defoe

  Speak, satire; for there's none can tell like thee

  Whether 'tis folly, pride, or knavery

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Rokeby: Canto VI.

© Sir Walter Scott

I.

The summer sun, whose early power

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The Canterbury Tales; the Squieres tale

© Geoffrey Chaucer

The Prologe of the Squieres tale.


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The Creek of the Four Graves [Late Version]

© Charles Harpur

A settler in the olden times went forth

With four of his most bold and trusted men

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The World’s Justice

© Emma Lazarus

If the sudden tidings came

That on some far, foreign coast,

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The Prophecy Of Capys

© Thomas Babbington Macaulay

X.
So marched they along the lake;
They marched by fold and stall,
By cornfield and by vineyard,
Unto the old man's hall.