Change poems

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Ode to a Young Lady

© William Shenstone

Survey, my Fair! that lucid stream,
Adown the smiling valley stray;
Would Art attempt, or Fancy dream,
To regulate its winding way?

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August Moonrise

© Sara Teasdale

THE sun was gone, and the moon was coming
Over the blue Connecticut hills;
The west was rosy, the east was flushed,
And over my head the swallows rushed

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The Door (I)

© Robert Creeley


It is hard going to the door
cut so small in the wall where
the vision which echoes loneliness
brings a scent of wild flowers in a wood.

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Georgie Sails To-Morrow!

© Henry Clay Work

For sixteen years, a merry, laughing maiden,
 I have warbl'd only songs of joy;
And in this heart, so very lightly laden,
 Happy thoughts have ever found employ.
But times will change! and now there comes a sorrow,
 Which bids me ev'ry joy resign:

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Vain Hope

© Ernest Christopher Dowson

Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say,

  Though late it be, though lily-time be past,

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Living

© William Dean Howells

HOW passionately I will my life away
Which I would give all that I have to stay;
How wildly I hurry, for the change I crave.
To hurl myself into the changeless grave!

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At The Linn-Side

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

O LIVING, living water,
So busy and so bright,
Aye flashing in the morning beams,
And sounding through the night;

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Rose Mary

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Of her two fights with the Beryl-stone

Lost the first, but the second won.

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Report To Crazy Horse

© William Stafford


Crazy Horse, tell me if I am right:
these are the things we thought we were
doing something about.

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Hero And Leander. The Fourth Sestiad

© George Chapman

Now from Leander's place she rose, and found

  Her hair and rent robe scatter'd on the ground;

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To June. Written After An Ungenial May

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

I'll heed no more the poet's lay-
His false-fond song shall charm no more-
My heart henceforth shall but adore
The real, not the misnamed May.

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On Some Rose Leaves Brought From The Vale Of Cashmere

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Faded and pale their beauty, vanished their early bloom,
Their folded leaves emit alone a sweet though faint perfume,
But, oh! than brightest bud or flower to me are they more dear,
They come from that rose-haunted land, the bright Vale of Cashmere.

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Svanhvit's Colloquy

© Per Daniel Amadeus Atterbom

  What countless paths wind down, from divers points,
  To yonder city gates!--Oh, wilt not thou,
  My star, appear to me on one of them?
  Whate'er I said,--thou art my worshiped sun.
  Then pardon me;--thou art not cold; oh, no!
  Too warm, too glowing warm, art thou for me.

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Laus Virginitatis

© Arthur Symons

The mirror of men's eyes delights me less,
mirror, than the friend I find in thee;
Thou loves!:, as I love, my loveliness,
Thou givest my beauty back to me.

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The Golden Legend: III. A Street In Strasburg

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  _Crier of the dead (ringing a bell)._ Wake! wake!
  All ye that sleep!
  Pray for the Dead!
  Pray for the Dead!

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From “Myrtis”

© Walter Savage Landor

FRIENDS, whom she look’d at blandly from her couch
And her white wrist above it, gem-bedew’d,
Were arguing with Pentheusa: she had heard
Report of Creon’s death, whom years before

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The Hammock's Complaint

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Who thinks how desolate and strange
To me must seem the autumn's change,
When housed in attic or in chest,
A lonely and unwilling guest,
I lie through nights of bleak December,
And think in silence, and remember.

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The Vision Of Echard

© John Greenleaf Whittier

The Benedictine Echard
Sat by the wayside well,
Where Marsberg sees the bridal
Of the Sarre and the Moselle.

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The Poet's Song

© Archibald Lampman


There came no change from week to week
  On all the land, but all one way,
Like ghosts that cannot touch nor speak,
  Day followed day.

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The Responsibility Of Fatherhood

© Edgar Albert Guest

BEFORE you came, my little lad,

I used to think that I was good,