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/ page 178 of 246 /Second Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
The clouds that wrap the setting sun
When Autumn's softest gleams are ending,
Opifex
© Edward Thomas
As I was carving images from clouds,
And tinting them with soft ethereal dyes
Pressed from the pulp of dreams, one comes, and cries:--
"Forbear!" and all my heaven with gloom enshrouds.
Dionysus
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
Somewhere, suspended in facetless space,
the vine is spiralling, shown in the distance, with loosened hair:
the farther the eye is, the quicker, the faster it is moving,
as if all this length is bestowing on it the result
and the encouraging memory of the way, done and forgotten for good.
A Poet to...
© Charles Harpur
Thinewhen I saw thee first thou seemdst to me
A being known, yet beautifully new!
As when, to crown some sages theory,
Amid heavens sisterhoods, into shining view
Comes the conjectured star!his lucky name
To halo thenceforth with its virgin flame.
The Passing Of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere,
First made and latest left of all the knights,
Told, when the man was no more than a voice
In the white winter of his age, to those
With whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds.
Satyr IX. The State Of Love Imitated Fm An Elegy Of Mons:r Desportes
© Thomas Parnell
Hence lett us hence with Just abhorrence go
for ill their happyness these mortalls know
Who slight the mighty favours I bestow
Sonnets XLIX: L: LI: LII: Willowwood
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I
I sat with Love upon a woodside well,
The Mountain Splitter
© Henry Lawson
HE WORKS in the glen where the waratah grows,
And the gums and the ashes are tall,
Neath cliffs that re-echo the sound of his blows
When the wedges leap in from the mawl.
Brown Bess
© Rudyard Kipling
In the days of lace-ruffles, perukes and brocade
Brown Bess was a partner whom none could despise-
An out-spoken, flinty-lipped, brazen-faced jade,
With a habit of looking men straight in the eyes-
At Blenheim and Ramillies fops would confess
They were pierced to the heart by the charms of Brown Bess.
Her Memories
© Augusta Davies Webster
NOT by her grave: thither I bid them take
Fresh garlands of the flowers that pleased her best,
An Emblem of Life
© Caroline Norton
Oh! Life is like the summer rill, where weary daylight dies;
We long for morn to rise again, and blush along the skies:
The Grave and The Rose
© Victor Marie Hugo
The Grave said to the Rose,
"What of the dews of dawn,
Love's flower, what end is theirs?"
"And what of spirits flown,
Bringing in the Wine
© Li Po
See how the Yellow River's water move out of heaven.
Entering the ocean,never to return.
See how lovely locks in bright mirrors in high chambers,
Though silken-black at morning, have changed by night to snow.
Nomenclature
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Some people have names like pitchforks, some people have names like cakes,
Names full of sizzling esses like a family quarrel of snakes,
Names black as a cat, vermilion as the cockscomb-hat of a fool
But your name is a green, small garden, a rush asleep in a pool.
In The Shadow Of The Beeches
© Madison Julius Cawein
In the shadow of the beeches,
Where the fragile wildflowers bloom;
Ode to Mr. Graham, the Aeronaut
© Thomas Hood
Dear Graham, whilst the busy crowd,
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
Their meaner flights pursue,
Let us cast off the foolish ties
That bind us to the earth, and rise
And take a bird's-eye view!
From Faust - I. Dedication
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Parting the vapor mist that round me plays!
My bosom finds its youthful strength again,
Feeling the magic breeze that marks your train.