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The Homestead

© John Greenleaf Whittier

AGAINST the wooded hills it stands,
Ghost of a dead home, staring through
Its broken lights on wasted lands
Where old-time harvests grew.

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A Last Confession

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Our Lombard country-girls along the coast

Wear daggers in their garters: for they know

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The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto V.

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

III The Heart's Prophecies
  Be not amazed at life; 'tis still
  The mode of God with His elect
  Their hopes exactly to fulfil,
  In times and ways they least expect.

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Fragments Of An Unfinished Drama

© Percy Bysshe Shelley


ANOTHER SCENE
Indian Youth and Lady.

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We too shall Sleep

© Archibald Lampman

   Not, not for thee,
   Belovèd child, the burning grasp of life
   Shall bruise the tender soul. The noise, and strife,
   And clamor of midday thou shalt not see;

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The Poet

© Madison Julius Cawein

He stands above all worldly schism,
  And, gazing over life's abysm,
  Beholds within the starry range
  Of heaven laws of death and change,
  That, through his soul's prophetic prism,
  Are turned to rainbows wild and strange.

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Where Home Was

© Augusta Davies Webster

'TWAS yesterday; 'twas long ago:

 And for this flaunting grimy street,

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Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. - Canto II.

© Matthew Prior

Richard, quoth Matt, these words of thine
Speak something sly and something fine;
But I shall e'en resume my theme,
However thou may'st praise or blame.

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Charles The First

© Percy Bysshe Shelley


A Pursuivant.
Place, for the Marshal of the Masque!

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Wings

© Katharine Lee Bates

GRAY gulls that wheeled and dipped and rose

Where tossing crests like Alpine snows

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Eternity Of Love Protested

© Thomas Carew

How ill doth he deserve a lover's name,

  Whose pale weak flame

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Senlin: A Biography Pt 02: His Futile Preoccupations

© Conrad Aiken

Vine leaves tap my window,
Dew-drops sing to the garden stones,
The robin chips in the chinaberry tree
Repeating three clear tones.

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Ned the Larrikin

© Henry Kendall

A SONG that is bitter with grief—a ballad as pale as the light

That comes with the fall of the leaf, I sing to the shadows to-night.

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The Little Fauns To Proserpine

© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

BROWNER than the hazel-husk, swifter than the wind,
Though you turn from heath and hill, we are hard behind,
Singing, "Ere the sorrows rise, ere the gates unclose
Bind above your wistful eyes the memory of a rose."

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The Great Carbuncle

© Sylvia Plath

We came over the moor-top
Through air streaming and green-lit,
Stone farms foundering in it,
Valleys of grass altering
In a light neither dawn

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The Wonder-Working Magician - Act III

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

DEMON.  Why, how is this, that using your free-will
More than my precept meant,
Say for what end, what object, what intent,
Through ignorance or boldness can it be,
You thus come forth the sun's bright face to see?

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In Memoryt Of Saretta Deakin

© Edith Nesbit

_Who Died on October 25th_, 1899.

THERE was a day,

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The Ring And The Book - Chapter III - The Other Half-Rome

© Robert Browning

ANOTHER DAY that finds her living yet,

Little Pompilia, with the patient brow

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To-----

© Muriel Stuart

Between two common days this day was hung
When Love went to the ending that was his;
His seamless robe was rent, his bow was wrong,
He took at last the sponge's bitter kiss.

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Italy : 19. Foscari

© Samuel Rogers

Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber.  Now a sigh,
And now a groan is heard.  Then all is still.
Twenty are sitting as in judgement there;