Age poems
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The Dreamers
© William Wilfred Campbell
THEY lingered on the middle heights
Betwixt the brown earth and the heaven;
They whispered, 'We are not the night's,
But pallid children of the even.'
Leady-Day, An Ridden House
© William Barnes
Aye, back at Leädy-Day, you know,
I come vrom Gullybrook to Stowe;
Dover Cliffs
© William Lisle Bowles
On these white cliffs, that calm above the flood
Uprear their shadowing heads, and at their feet
Gemini And Virgo
© Charles Stuart Calverley
Some vast amount of years ago,
Ere all my youth had vanished from me,
A boy it was my lot to know,
Whom his familiar friends called Tommy.
Victory Britannia -- from Runnamede, final lines
© John Logan
Albem. Rapt into heaven,
High visions pass before the holy man;
His tranced accent is the voice divine.
A Farewell To Arms: To Queen Elizabeth
© George Peele
His golden locks Time hath to silver turnd;
O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing!
His youth gainst time and age hath ever spurnd,
But spurnd in vain; youth waneth by increasing:
Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen;
Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green.
Paradise Regain'd : Book I.
© John Milton
I, who erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all mankind,
The Folly of Brown - By a General Agent
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I knew a boor - a clownish card
(His only friends were pigs and cows and
The poultry of a small farmyard),
Who came into two hundred thousand.
The Four Seasons : Summer
© James Thomson
From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 03 - part 05
© Torquato Tasso
LXI
"Presages, ah too true:" with that a space
Tournesol
© André Breton
La voyageuse qui traverse les Halles à la tombée de l'été
Marchait sur la pointe des pieds
The Herb Of Grace
© Elsie Cole
Find some freckled fern seed to sprinkle in your shoes
And you may step invisible down the peopled street,
Fragment VIII
© James Macpherson
Such, Fingal! were thy words; but
thy words I hear no more. Sightless
I sit by thy tomb. I hear the wind in
the wood; but no more I hear my
friends. The cry of the hunter is over.
The voice of war is ceased.
The Troubadour. Canto 3
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
But sadness moved him when he gave
DE VALENCE to his lowly grave,--
The grave where the wild flowers were sleeping,
And one pale olive-tree was weeping,--
And placed the rude stone cross to show
A Christian hero lay below.
The Funeral of Youth: Threnody
© Rupert Brooke
The Day that Youth had died,
There came to his grave-side,
In decent mourning, from the countrys ends,
Those scatterd friends
Loss And Waste
© Jean Ingelow
Up to far Osteroe and Suderoe
The deep sea-floor lies strewn with Spanish wrecks,
O'er minted gold the fair-haired fishers go,
O'er sunken bravery of high carv褠decks.
