Best poems
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Die Schlimmste Frau
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Die Weiber koennen nichts als plagen.
Der Satz sagt viel und ist nicht neu.
Doch, Freunde, koennt ihr mir nicht sagen,
Welch Weib das schlimmste sei?
The Sleep of Sigismund
© Jean Ingelow
The doom'd king pacing all night through the windy fallow.
'Let me alone, mine enemy, let me alone,'
Never a Christian bell that dire thick gloom to hallow,
Or guide him, shelterless, succourless, thrust from his own.
Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 29
© Edward Taylor
My shattered fancy stole away from me
(Wits run a-wooling over Eden's park)
And in God's garden saw a golden tree,
Whose heart was all divine, and gold its bark.
Whose glorious limbs and fruitful branches strong
With saints and angels bright are richly hung.
The 5th Satire Of Book I. Of Horace : A Humorous Description Of The Author's Journey From Rome To Br
© William Cowper
'Twas a long journey lay before us,
When I and honest Heliodorus,
Trinitas
© John Greenleaf Whittier
At morn I prayed, "I fain would see
How Three are One, and One is Three;
Read the dark riddle unto me."
The Little Worold
© William Barnes
My hwome wer on the timber'd ground
O' Duncombe, wi' the hills a-bound:
The Task: Book V. -- The Winter Morning Walk
© William Cowper
Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb
Ascending, fires the horizon; while the clouds,
Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II
© Samuel Butler
Next him his Son and Heir Apparent
Succeeded, though a lame vicegerent;
Who first laid by the Parliament,
The only crutch on which he leant;
And then sunk underneath the State,
That rode him above horseman's weight.
Der Ueber Uns
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Hans Steffen stieg bei Daemmerung (und kaum
konnt er vor Naeschigkeit die Daemmerung erwarten)
in seines Edelmannes Garten
und pluenderte den besten Apfelbaum.
The Kings Prophecie
© Joseph Hall
What Stoick could his steely brest containe
(If Zeno self, or who were made beside
Of tougher mold) from being torne in twaine
With the crosse Passions of this wondrous tide?
Grief at ELIZAES toomb, orecomne anone
With greater ioy at her succeeded throne?
The Golden Legend: IV. The Road To Hirschau
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Elsie._ Onward and onward the highway runs
to the distant city, impatiently bearing
Tidings of human joy and disaster, of love and of
hate, of doing and daring!
Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place
© Emily Jane Brontë
Yes, holy be thy resting place
Wherever thou may'st lie;
The sweetest winds breathe on thy face,
The softest of the sky.
The Shepheardes Calender: August
© Edmund Spenser
Cuddye.
Sicker sike a roundle neuer heard I none.
Little lacketh Perigot of the best.
And Willye is not greatly ouergone,
So weren his vndersongs well addrest.
The Princes' Ques -Part the Eighth
© William Watson
Now as it chanced, the day was almost spent
When down the lonely mountain-side he went,
The Abencerrage : Canto III.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Onward their slow and stately course they bend
To where the Alhambra's ancient towers ascend,
Reared and adorned by Moorish kings of yore,
Whose lost descendants there shall dwell no more.
Verses:Intended To Go With A Posset Dish To My Dear Little Goddaughter
© James Russell Lowell
In good old times, which means, you know,
The time men wasted long ago,
