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/ page 33 of 246 /Mr. Barney Maguire's Account Of The Coronation
© Richard Harris Barham
Och! the Coronation! what celebration
For emulation can with it compare?
Foreshadowings
© Henry Kendall
FIFTEEN miles and then the harbour! Here we cannot choose but stand,
Faces thrust towards the day-break, listening for our native land!
To K.B.
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
You're here again - and of a sudden
A warmth long gone floods my dead heart,
And all I thought forgot, unbidden
Returns, of me becomes a part.
"To cure wounds is so rigid"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
To cure wounds is so rigid:
They drank the air and poisoned bread.
Young Joseph who was sold to Egypt
Could not be more deathly sad!
Woman To Man
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well,
How could the hand be enemy of the arm,
Or seed and sod be rivals! How could light
Feel jealousy of heat, plant of the leaf
The Shallows Of The Ford
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Did you ever wait for daylight
when the stars along the river
First Sunday After Christmas
© John Keble
'Tis true, of old the unchanging sun
His daily course refused to run,
The pale moon hurrying to the west
Paused at a mortal's call, to aid
The avenging storm of war, that laid
Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.
An Ode - Presented To The King, On His Majesty's Arrival In Holland, After The Queen's Death
© Matthew Prior
At Mary's tomb (sad sacred place!)
The Virtues shall their vigils keep,
And every Muse and every Grace
In solemn state shall ever weep.
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
A Mountain Storm
© Katharine Lee Bates
OUR blue sierras shone serene, sublime,
When ghostly shapes came crowding up the air,
My Eyes Pour Out Tears
© Bulleh Shah
He left me, and himself he departed;
What fault was there in me ?
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - January
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
The Fall Of The Leaf
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Earnest and sad the solemn tale
That the sighing winds give back,
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
Regret
© Celia Thaxter
SOFTLY Death touched her and she passed away
Out of this glad, bright world she made more fair,
The Epitaph In Form Of A Ballad Which Villon Made For Himself And His Comrades, Expecting To Be Hang
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Prince Jesus, that of all art lord and head,
Keep us, that hell be not our bitter bed;
We have nought to do in such a master's hall.
Be not ye therefore of our fellowhead,
But pray to God that he forgive us all.
Written After Leaving Her At New Burns
© William Cowper
How quick the change from joy to woe!
How chequered is our lot below!
Illileo
© James Whitcomb Riley
Illileo, the moonlight seemed lost across the vales--
The stars but strewed the azure as an armor's scattered scales;
The airs of night were quiet as the breath of silken sails,
And all your words were sweeter than the notes of nightingales.