Best poems
/ page 43 of 84 /Lines Written in 1799.
© Amelia Opie
Now, pleased I mark the painter's skilful line,
And now, rejoice the skill I mark is thine:
And while I prize the gift by thee bestow'd,
My heart proclaims, I'm of the giver proud.
Thus pride and friendship war with equal strife,
And now the friend exults, and now the wife.
Julian and Maddalo : A Conversation
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand
Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand,
The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
The Undertaking
© John Donne
I have done one braver thing
Than all the Worthies did,
And yet a braver thence doth spring,
Which is, to keep that hid.
The Horse & Olive Or Warr & Peace
© Thomas Parnell
With Moral tale let Ancient wisdome move
Which thus I sing to make ye moderns wise
340. SongThou Fair Eliza
© Robert Burns
TURN again, thou fair Eliza!
Ae kind blink before we part;
Rue on thy despairing lover,
Canst thou break his faithfu heart?
365. Lines on Fergusson, the Poet
© Robert Burns
ILL-FATED genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson!
What heart that feels and will not yield a tear,
To think Lifes sun did set eer well begun
To shed its influence on thy bright career.
231. Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry
© Robert Burns
WHEN Nature her great master-piece designd,
And framd her last, best work, the human mind,
Her eye intent on all the mazy plan,
She formd of various parts the various Man.
251. Impromptu Lines to Captain Riddell
© Robert Burns
My goose-quill too rude is
To tell all your goodness
Bestowd on your servant, the Poet;
Would to God I had one
Like a beam of the sun,
And then all the world, sir, should know it!
519. Ballad on Mr. Herons ElectionNo. 2
© Robert Burns
FY, let us a to Kirkcudbright,
For there will be bickerin there;
For Murrays light horse are to muster,
And O how the heroes will swear!
350. Epistle to John Maxwell, Esq., of Terraughty
© Robert Burns
Fareweel, auld birkie! Lord be near ye,
And then the deil, he daurna steer ye:
Your friends aye love, your faes aye fear ye;
For me, shame fa me,
If neist my heart I dinna wear ye,
While Burns they ca me.
113. A Dedication to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
© Robert Burns
The Poet, some guid angel help him,
Or else, I fear, some ill ane skelp him!
He may do weel for a hes done yet,
But onlyhes no just begun yet.
4. SongIn the Character of a Ruined Farmer
© Robert Burns
THE SUN he is sunk in the west,
All creatures retir?d to rest,
While here I sit, all sore beset,
With sorrow, grief, and woe:
And its O, fickle Fortune, O!
153. Inscription for the Headstone of Fergusson the Poet
© Robert Burns
NO 1 sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay,
No storied urn nor animated bust;
This simple stone directs pale Scotias way,
To pour her sorrows oer the Poets dust.
261. The Wounded Hare
© Robert Burns
INHUMAN man! curse on thy barbrous art,
And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye;
May never pity soothe thee with a sigh,
Nor ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart!
435. SongWhere are the Joys I have met
© Robert Burns
WHERE are the joys I have met in the morning,
That dancd to the larks early song?
Where is the peace that awaited my wandring,
At evening the wild-woods among?