Age poems
/ page 93 of 145 /Flora Macivor's Song
© Sir Walter Scott
There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale,
But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael.
A stranger commanded â- it sunk on the land,
It has frozen each heart, and benumb'd every hand!
A Catholic To His Ulster Brother
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Is there no bond of blood to you, my brother?
Who have called her ours, the ancient Mother,
Constable MCartys Investigations
© Henry Lawson
Most unpleasantly adjacent to the haunts of lower orders
Stood a terrace in the city when the current year began,
By A Norfolk Broad
© Ada Cambridge
One hour ago the crimson sun, that seemed so long a-drowning, sank.
The summer day is all but done. Our boat is moored beneath the bank.
I bask in peace, content, replete-my faithful comrade at my feet.
Thoughts Of A Soldier
© Edgar Albert Guest
Since men with life must purchase life
And some must die that more may live,
Elegy XXI. Taking a View of the Country From His Retirement
© William Shenstone
Thus Damon sung-What though unknown to praise,
Umbrageous coverts hide my Muse and me,
Or mid the rural shepherds flow my days?
Amid the rural shepherds, I am free.
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto First
© William Wordsworth
FROM Bolton's old monastic tower
The bells ring loud with gladsome power;
The sun shines bright; the fields are gay
With people in their best array
The Golden Legend: II. A Farm In The Odenwald
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Elsie._ Here are flowers for you,
But they are not all for you.
Some of them are for the Virgin
And for Saint Cecilia.
Der Freischutz
© Madison Julius Cawein
He? why, a tall Franconian strong and young,
Brown as a walnut the first frost hath hulled;
The Dedication Poem
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Dedication Poem on the reception of the annex to
the home for aged colored people, from the bequest of
Mr. Edward T. Parker.
Georgic 3
© Publius Vergilius Maro
Thee too, great Pales, will I hymn, and thee,
Amphrysian shepherd, worthy to be sung,
The Voice In The Pines
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE morn is softly beautiful and still,
Its light fair clouds in pencilled gold and gray
Pause motionless above the pine-grown hill,
Where the pines, tranced as by a wizard's will,
Uprise as mute and motionless as they!
An After-Dinner Poem
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
IN narrowest girdle, O reluctant Muse,
In closest frock and Cinderella shoes,
Bound to the foot-lights for thy brief display,
One zephyr step, and then dissolve away!
Sonnet XX.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The piteous sobs that choke the Virgin's breath
For him, the fair betrothed Youth, who les
Cold in the narrow dwelling, or the cries
With which a Mother wails her Darling's death,
What Dick An I Did
© William Barnes
Last week the Browns ax'd nearly all
The naïghbours to a randy,
Salmacis and Hermaphroditus.
© Francis Beaumont
MY wanton lines doe treate of amorous loue,
Such as would bow the hearts of gods aboue:
Book Ninth [Residence in France]
© William Wordsworth
EVEN as a river,--partly (it might seem)
Yielding to old remembrances, and swayed
Rhoecus
© James Russell Lowell
God sends his teachers unto every age,
To every clime, and every race of men,
The Cōforte of Louers
© Stephen Hawes
The prohemye.
The gentyll poetes/vnder cloudy fygures
Do touche a trouth/and clokeit subtylly
Harde is to cōstrue poetycall scryptures