Art poems

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A Kiss

© Thomas Lux

One wave falling forward meets another wave falling
forward. Well-water,
hand-hauled, mineral, cool, could be
a kiss, or pastures

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Of The Nature Of Things: Book IV - Part 03 - The Senses And Mental Pictures

© Lucretius

Bodies that strike the eyes, awaking sight.

From certain things flow odours evermore,

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An Anthem for the Australasian League

© Charles Harpur

SHALL we sing of Loyalty

  To the far South’s fiery youth?

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Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Pleasure. Book II.

© Matthew Prior

My full design with vast expense achieved,
I came, beheld, admired, reflected, grieved:
I chid the folly of my thoughtless haste,
For, the work perfected, the joy was past.

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The Vigil Of Venus

© Thomas Parnell

Let those love now, who never lov'd before,

Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.

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Obermann Once More

© Matthew Arnold

Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts
All meaning from a name!
White houses prank where once were huts.
Glion, but not the same!

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The Strayed Reveller

© Matthew Arnold

1 Faster, faster,
2 O Circe, Goddess,
3 Let the wild, thronging train
4 The bright procession
5 Of eddying forms,
6 Sweep through my soul!

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Strayed Reveller, The

© Matthew Arnold

Hist! Thou-within there!
Come forth, Ulysses!
Art tired with hunting?
While we range the woodland,
See what the day brings.

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The Pagan World

© Matthew Arnold

In his cool hall, with haggard eyes,
The Roman noble lay;
He drove abroad, in furious guise,
Along the Appian way.

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The Scholar Gypsy

© Matthew Arnold

But, 'mid their drink and clatter, he would fly.
And I myself seem half to know thy looks,
And put the shepherds, wanderer! on thy trace;
And boys who in lone wheatfields scare the rooks
I ask if thou hast passed their quiet place;

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Ballade Of Amoureuse

© Andrew Lang

Not Jason nor Medea wise,

I crave to see, nor win much lore,

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To A Lady Who Commanded Me To Send Her An Account In Verse

© Mary Barber

How I succeed, you kindly ask;
Yet set me on a grievous Task,
When you oblige me to rehearse,
The Censures past upon my Verse.

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With brutus in st. jo

© Eugene Field

Of all the opry-houses then obtaining in the West
The one which Milton Tootle owned was, by all odds, the best;
Milt, being rich, was much too proud to run the thing alone,
So he hired an "acting manager," a gruff old man named Krone--

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Two idylls from bion the smyrnean

© Eugene Field

Once a fowler, young and artless,
To the quiet greenwood came;
Full of skill was he and heartless
In pursuit of feathered game.
And betimes he chanced to see
Eros perching in a tree.

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An Exile's Death

© Victor Marie Hugo

Of what does this poor exile dream?
His garden plot, his dewy mead,
Perchance his tools, perchance his team,—
But ever of murdered France indeed;

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The jaffa and jerusalem railway

© Eugene Field

A tortuous double iron track; a station here, a station there;
A locomotive, tender, tanks; a coach with stiff reclining chair;
Some postal cars, and baggage, too; a vestibule of patent make;
With buffers, duffers, switches, and the soughing automatic brake--
This is the Orient's novel pride, and Syria's gaudiest modern gem:
The railway scheme that is to ply 'twixt Jaffa and Jerusalem.

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The Columbiad: Book VII

© Joel Barlow

He spoke; his moving armies veil'd the plain,
His fleets rode bounding on the western main;
O'er lands and seas the loud applauses rung,
And war and union dwelt on every tongue.

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Sister's cake

© Eugene Field

I'd not complain of Sister Jane, for she was good and kind,
Combining with rare comeliness distinctive gifts of mind;
Nay, I'll admit it were most fit that, worn by social cares,
She'd crave a change from parlor life to that below the stairs,
And that, eschewing needlework and music, she should take
Herself to the substantial art of manufacturing cake.

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Picnic-time

© Eugene Field

It's June ag'in, an' in my soul I feel the fillin' joy
That's sure to come this time o' year to every little boy;
For, every June, the Sunday-schools at picnics may be seen,
Where "fields beyont the swellin' floods stand dressed in livin' green";

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Our Lady of the Mine

© Eugene Field

The Blue Horizon wuz a mine us fellers all thought well uv,
And there befell the episode I now perpose to tell uv;
'T wuz in the year uv sixty-nine,--somewhere along in summer,--
There hove in sight one afternoon a new and curious comer;