Change poems
/ page 107 of 246 /The Hour And The Ghost
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I have thee close, my dear,
No terror can come near;
Only far off the northern light shines clear.
The Wood Carver's Wife
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
JEAN MARCHANT, the wood-carver.
DORETTE, his wife.
LOUIS DE LOTBINIERE.
SHAGONAS, an Indian lad.
By The Sea
© Sara Teasdale
Beside an ebbing northern sea
While stars awaken one by one,
We walk together, I and he.
Macaulay's New Zealander.
© James Brunton Stephens
IT little profits that, an idle man,
On this worn arch, in sight of wasted halls,
Fainting by the Way
© Henry Kendall
Swarthy wastelands, wide and woodless, glittering miles and miles away,
Where the south wind seldom wanders and the winters will not stay;
The Cut-Down Trousers
© Edgar Albert Guest
When father couldn't wear them mother cut them down for me;
She took the slack in fore and aft, and hemmed them at the knee;
They fitted rather loosely, but the things that made me glad
Were the horizontal pockets that those good old trousers had.
White Magic
© Muriel Stuart
Is it not a wonderful thing to be able to force an astonished plant to bear rare flowers which are foreign to it. . . and to obtain a marvelous result from sap which, left to itself, would have produced corollas without beauty? -VIRGIL.
I stood forlorn and pale,
The Home of Peace
© Charles Harpur
In a bark of gentle motion
Sailing on the summer ocean?
There worst war the tempest wages,
And the hungry whirlpool rages.
Captain Von Esson of the Sebastopol
© Henry Lawson
Till each was sunk that the Russians leftwhile the buildings reeled with the shock,
Save the last of the Russian ships of warthe Sebastopolin dock.
And this is the reasontold in a linewhy there is a tale to tell:
The Sebastopol had a man for boss, and a crew that knew it well.
The Palatine
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Leagues north, as fly the gull and auk,
Point Judith watches with eye of hawk;
Leagues south, thy beacon flames, Montauk!
Over The Darkened City
© Conrad Aiken
The fisherman draws his streaming net from the sea
And sails toward the far-off city, that seems
Like one vague tower.
The dark bow plunges to foam on blue-black waves,
And shrill rain seethes like a ghostly music about him
In a quiet shower.
The Australian Bell-Bird
© Jean Ingelow
And 'Oyez, Oyez' following after me
On my great errand to the sundown went.
Lost, lost, and lost, whenas the cross road flee
Up tumbled hills, on each for eyes attent
A carriage creepeth.
The Reverend Micah Sowls
© William Schwenck Gilbert
The REVEREND MICAH SOWLS,
He shouts and yells and howls,
He screams, he mouths, he bumps,
He foams, he rants, he thumps.
The Pine Forest Of The Cascine Near Pisa
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
We wandered to the Pine Forest
That skirts the Ocean's foam,
The lightest wind was in its nest,
The tempest in its home.
Epistle To A Friend, In Answer To Some Lines Exhorting The Author To Be Cheerful, And To Banish Care
© George Gordon Byron
'OH! banish care'--such ever be
The motto of thy revelry!
Perchance of mine, when wassail nights
Renew those riotous delights,
Charms of Precedence - A Tale
© William Shenstone
"Sir, will you please to walk before?"-
"No, pray, Sir-you are next the door."-
A Narrow Girdle Of Rough Stones And Crags,
© William Wordsworth
A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A rude and natural causeway, interposed