Art poems
/ page 13 of 137 /Upon The Sand
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Yet, when from the frowning east a sudden gust
Of adverse fate is blown, or sad rains fall
Day in, day out, against its yielding wall,
Lo! the fair structure crumbles to the dust.
Love, to endure life's sorrow and earth's woe,
Needs friendship's solid masonwork below.
William Francis Bartlett
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, well may Essex sit forlorn
Beside her sea-blown shore;
Her well beloved, her noblest born,
Is hers in life no more!
Moses On The Nile
© Victor Marie Hugo
"Sisters! the wave is freshest in the ray
Of the young morning; the reapers are asleep;
Moore
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
He sings the heroic tales of old
When Ireland yet was free,
Of many a fight and foray bold,
And raid beyond the sea.
The Wrongs Of Africa: Part The Second
© William Roscoe
FAIR is this fertile spot, which God assign'd
As man's terrestrial home; where every charm
Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth
© George Gordon Byron
I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
Geist's Grave
© Matthew Arnold
Four years!--and didst thou stay above
The ground, which hides thee now, but four?
And all that life, and all that love,
Were crowded, Geist! into no more?
The Descent Of The Muses
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Nine sisters, beautiful in form and face,
Came from their convent on the shining heights
A Fairy Tale In The Ancient English Style
© Thomas Parnell
In Britain's Isle and Arthur's days,
When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze,
Shadow
© Guillaume Apollinaire
Here you are beside me again
Memories of my companions killed in the war
To Miss D. T. On her giving me a drawing of little street arabs.
© James Russell Lowell
As, cleansed of Tiber's and Oblivion's slime,
Glow Farnesina's vaults with shapes again
Translation of a Speech of Aquileio in the Adriano of Metastasio
© Samuel Johnson
Grown old in courts, thou art not surely one
Who keeps the rigid rules of ancient honour;
The Season
© Alfred Austin
So sings the river through the summer days,
And I, submissive, follow what I praise.
What if my boyish blood would rather stay
Where lawns invite, where bonnibels delay,
Though but a youth and not averse from these,
To conflict called, I abdicate my ease,
England And Spain
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Illustrious names! still, still united beam,
Be still the hero's boast, the poet's theme:
So when two radiant gems together shine,
And in one wreath their lucid light combine;
Each, as it sparkles with transcendant rays,
Adds to the lustre of its kindred blaze.
Written For My Son, To Mr. Barry;
© Mary Barber
Since Phoebus makes your Verse divine,
Since the God glows in ev'ry Line;
Why should you think, but I, with Ease,
Might write my native, artless Lays?
There Is
© Guillaume Apollinaire
There is this ship which has taken my beloved back again
There are six Zeppelin sausages in the sky and with night
The Cotter's Saturday Night
© Robert Burns
"Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,
The short and simple annals of the poor."
Gray
Sonnet VII
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
But still, beyond, one lone mysterious cloud,
Steeped in the solemn sunset's fiery mist,
Strange semblance takes of Him whose visage bowed,
Divinely sweet, o'er all things, dark or bright,
Yet draws the darkness ever toward His light
The tender eyes and awful brow of Christ!