Age poems
/ page 82 of 145 /A Greeting
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Thrice welcome from the Land of Flowers
And golden-fruited orange bowers
Meary-Anns Child
© William Barnes
Meary-Ann wer alwone wi' her beäby in eärms,
In her house wi' the trees over head,
Vor her husban' wer out in the night an' the storms,
In his business a-tweilèn vor bread;
An' she, as the wind in the elems did roar,
Did grievy vor Robert all night out o' door.
Lines To Six-Foot Three
© George Borrow
A lad, who twenty tongues can talk
And sixty miles a day can walk;
English Eclogues VI - The Ruined Cottage
© Robert Southey
I pass this ruin'd dwelling oftentimes
And think of other days. It wakes in me
A transient sadness, but the feelings Charles
That ever with these recollections rise,
I trust in God they will not pass away.
The Hunting of the Snark
© Lewis Carroll
"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.
Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part III.
© Henry James Pye
Arm'd in her cause, on Chalgrave's fatal plain,
Where sorrowing Freedom mourns her Hambden slain,
Say, shall the moralizing bard presume
From his proud hearse to tear one warlike plume,
Because a Cæsar or a Cromwell wore
An impious wreath, wet with their country's gore?
Fragment III
© James Macpherson
I will sit by the stream of the plain.
Ye rocks! hang over my head. Hear
my voice, ye trees! as ye bend on the
shaggy hill. My voice shall preserve
the praise of him, the hope of the
isles.
The Death Of Conradin
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
No cloud to dim the splendour of the day
Which breaks o'er Naples and her lovely bay,
And lights that brilliant sea and magic shore
With every tint that charmed the great of yore-
The imperial ones of earth, who proudly bade
Their marble domes e'en Ocean's realm invade.
Like a Sentence
© John Ashbery
It was prettily said that “No man
hath an abundance of cows on the plain, nor shards
in his cupboard.” Wait! I think I know who said that! It was . . .
The Troglodyte
© Madison Julius Cawein
In ages dead, a troglodyte,
At the hollow roots of a monster height,--
Coole Park 1929
© William Butler Yeats
I MEDITATE upon a swallow's flight,
Upon a aged woman and her house,
George Moses Horton, Myself
© George Moses Horton
I feel myself in need
Of the inspiring strains of ancient lore,
My heart to lift, my empty mind to feed,
And all the world explore.
America
© Phillis Wheatley
New England first a wilderness was found
Till for a continent 'twas destin'd round
Microcosmos
© Siegfried Sassoon
I am that fantasy which race has wrought
Of mundane chance-material. I am time
Paeaned by the senses five like bells that chime.
from The Testament of John Lydgate
© John Lydgate
Beholde, o man! lyft up thyn eye and see
What mortall peyne I suffre for thi trespace.
Idyll XVI. The Value of Song
© Theocritus
"Kin before kith; to prosper is my prayer;
Poets, we know, are heaven's peculiar care.
We've Homer; and what other's worth a thought?
I call him chief of bards who costs me naught."
The Messenger
© Hugo Williams
The messenger runs, not carrying the news
of victory, or defeat; the messenger, unresting,