Age poems

 / page 64 of 145 /
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Gebir

© Walter Savage Landor

FIRST BOOK.


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Separation

© Robert Laurence Binyon

We parted at golden dawn.
I feasted my last on her eyes,
And journeyed, journeyed alone:
Mountains and cities and skies

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A Psalm Of Resignation

© Joseph Furphy

In spite of his imposing plea,

A freeman whom the truth makes free

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The Alphabet

© Karl Shapiro

The letters of the Jews as strict as flames

Or little terrible flowers lean

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The Prisoner For Debt

© John Greenleaf Whittier

LOOK on him! through his dungeon grate,
Feebly and cold, the morning light
Comes stealing round him, dim and late,
As if it loathed the sight.

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To a Cyclamen

© Walter Savage Landor

I COME to visit thee agen,
My little flowerless cyclamen;
To touch the hand, almost to press,
That cheer’d thee in thy loneliness.

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November, 1851

© George MacDonald

Why wilt thou stop and start?
Draw nearer, oh my heart,
And I will question thee most wistfully;
Gather thy last clear resolution
To look upon thy dissolution.

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A Tumbler Of Claret

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

I poured out a tumbler of Claret,

Of course with intention to drink,

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A Prologue To The Scholars. A Comaedy Presented At The White Fryers

© Richard Lovelace

A gentleman, to give us somewhat new,

Hath brought up OXFORD with him to show you;

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'Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love

© William Wordsworth

'Tis said, that some have died for love:

And here and there a churchyard grave is found

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The Huron Chief’s Daughter

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

The dusky warriors stood in groups around the funeral pyre,
The scowl upon their knotted brows betrayed their vengeful ire.
It needed not the cords, the stake, the rites so stern and rude,
To tell it was to be a scene of cruelty and blood.

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The Wonder-Working Magician - Act II

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

CYPRIAN.  Ever wrangling in this way,
How ye both my patience try!
Why can he not go?  Say why?

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The Castle Of Indolence

© James Thomson

The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.

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Metamorphoses: Book The Eighth

© Ovid

 The End of the Eighth 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

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Pomegranate Seed

© Edith Wharton

DEMETER PERSEPHONE
HECATE HERMES
In the vale of Elusis

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The Kalevala - Rune XXXIX

© Elias Lönnrot

WAINAMOINEN'S SAILING.


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The Rape Of Lucrece

© William Shakespeare

TO THE
RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.

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The Bee Meeting

© Sylvia Plath

Who are these people at the bridge to meet me? They are the villagers--
The rector, the midwife, the sexton, the agent for bees.
In my sleeveless summery dress I have no protection,
And they are all gloved and covered, why did nobody tell me?
They are smiling and taking out veils tacked to ancient hats.

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Hermann And Dorothea - I. Kalliope

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

But the worthy landlord only smiled, and then answer'd
I shall dreadfully miss that ancient calico garment,
Genuine Indian stuff! They're not to be had any longer.
Well! I shall wear it no more. And your poor husband henceforward
Always must wear a surtout, I suppose, or commonplace jacket,
Always must put on his boots; good bye to cap and to slippers!"