Art poems
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The Angel In The House. Book I. The Prologue.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
V.
His purpose with performance crown'd,
He to his well-pleased Wife rehears'd,
When next their Wedding-Day came round,
His leisure's labour, Book the First.
The Pastime of Pleasure: Of dysposycyon the II. parte of rethoryke - (til line 3017)
© Stephen Hawes
How la bell pucell graunted Graunde Amoure loue / and of her dyspytous departyoge. Ca. xix.
2241 Your wo & payne / & all your languysshynge
2242 Contynually / ye shall not spende in vayne
2243 Sythen I am cause / of your grete mornynge
Senlin: A Biography Pt. 01:His Dark Origins
© Conrad Aiken
He lights his pipe with a pointed flame.
'Yet, there were many autumns before I came,
And many springs. And more will come, long after
There is no horn for me, or song, or laughter.
Elegy VI
© Henry James Pye
Now has bright Sol fulfill'd his circling course,
Again to Taurus roll'd his burning car,
The Choice of Valentines
© Thomas Nashe
Pardon sweete flower of matchless Poetrie,
And fairest bud the red rose euer bare ;
Wilson
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The lowliest born of all the land,
He wrung from Fate's reluctant hand
The gifts which happier boyhood claims;
And, tasting on a thankless soil
The bitter bread of unpaid toil,
He fed his soul with noble aims.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 01
© Torquato Tasso
THE ARGUMENT.
God sends his angel to Tortosa down,
Wordsworth
© James Kenneth Stephen
Two voices are there: one is of the deep;
It learns the storm cloud's thunderous melody,
Now roars, now murmurs with the changing sea,
Now birdlike pipes, now closes soft in sleep;
The Portrait
© Madison Julius Cawein
In some quaint Nurnberg maler-atelier
Uprummaged. When and where was never clear
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 4
© Publius Vergilius Maro
BUT anxious cares already seizd the queen:
She fed within her veins a flame unseen;
The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.
© James Beattie
I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
Bodys Blood
© Arthur Symons
And if I love you more than my own soul
Then must you die and I shall never die
Mozarts Grave
© Alfred Austin
Where lies Mozart? Tradition shows
A likely spot: so much, no more:
No words of his own time disclose
When crossed He to the Further Shore,
Though later ages, roused to shame,
On tardy tomb have carved his name.
The Melbourne International Exhibition A. D. 1880
© Mary Hannay Foott
And thou who once wast Pharaoh's, and thou whose palm-thatched kraals
For centuries made marvel of bold De Gamas sails,
And all that dwell betwixt you, whateer your race and name,
Who seek our shores in kindness, we thank you that you came.
Saul And David
© Richard Monckton Milnes
``An evil spirit lieth on our King!''
So went the wailful tale up Israel,
From Gilgal unto Gibeah; town and camp
Caught the sad fame that spread like pestilence,
