Change poems

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Hyperion. Book I

© John Keats

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale

Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,

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Nuremberg

© Kenneth Slessor

So quiet it was in that high, sun-steeped room,
So warm and still, that sometimes with the light
Through the great windows, bright with bottle-panes,
There’d float a chime from clock-jacks out of sight,
  Clapping iron mallets on green copper gongs.

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It's a Boy

© Edgar Albert Guest

The doctor leads a busy life, he wages war with death;
Long hours he spends to help the one who's fighting hard for breath;
He cannot call his time his own, nor share in others' fun,
His duties claim him through the night when others' work is done.
And yet the doctor seems to be God's messenger of joy,
Appointed to announce this news of gladness: "It's a boy!"

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Autumn Evening

© Robinson Jeffers

Though the little clouds ran southward still, the quiet autumnal

Cool of the late September evening

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The Pariah - Legend

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

WATER-FETCHING goes the noble

Brahmin's wife, so pure and lovely;

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Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto I

© Samuel Butler

His doublet was of sturdy buff,
And tho' not sword, yet cudgel-proof;
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,
Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise.

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Dedication

© Caroline Norton

ONCE more, my harp! once more, although I thought
Never to wake thy silent strings again,
A wandering dream thy gentle chords have wrought,
And my sad heart, which long hath dwelt in pain,
Soars, like a wild bird from a cypress bough,
Into the poet's Heaven, and leaves dull grief below!

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Garden Dream

© Margaret Widdemer

But I was planting out my garden-close
With wands of lily and with slips of rose,
And their scented wavings made the air so sweet
That I could not listen to the trampling feet . . .
(Yet there blew a perfume from the garden-bed
That changed the evil weeds to white and red!)

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Tale XIX

© George Crabbe

THE CONVERT.

Some to our Hero have a hero's name

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Pharsalia - Book IV: Caesar In Spain. War In The Adriatic Sea. Death Of Curio.

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Should mix with ours, the vanquished.  Destiny
Has run for us its course: one boon I beg;
Bid not the conquered conquer in thy train."

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Ambrose

© James Russell Lowell

Never, surely, was holier man
Than Ambrose, since the world began;
With diet spare and raiment thin
He shielded himself from the father of sin;
With bed of iron and scourgings oft,
His heart to God's hand as wax made soft.

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A Choice

© Edith Nesbit

THE flood of utter change is loosed. A space

  Is ours yet, for its coming to prepare.

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To My Lord Buckhurst, Very Young, Playing With A Cat

© Matthew Prior

The amorous youth, whose tender breast

Was by his darling Cat possest,

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Love and Honor

© William Shenstone

Sed neque Medorum silvae, ditissima terra

Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Haemus,

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The Disciple

© George MacDonald

The times are changed, and gone the day
When the high heavenly land,
Though unbeheld, quite near them lay,
And men could understand.

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A Brisbane Reverie.

© James Brunton Stephens

AS I sit beside my little study window, looking down

From the heights of contemplation (attic front) upon the town —

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Between The Rapids

© Archibald Lampman

The point is turned; the twilight shadow fills

The wheeling stream, the soft receding shore,

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Prais'd be Diana's Fair and Harmless Light

© Sir Walter Raleigh

Prais'd be Diana's fair and harmless light;

  Prais'd be the dews wherewith she moists the ground;

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What Grandfather Said

© Alfred Noyes


Your thoughts are for the poor and weak?
  Ah, no, the picturesque's your passion!
Your tongue is always in your cheek
  At poverty that's not in fashion.

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Idyll III. The Serenade

© Theocritus

  [_Sings_] Hippomenes, when he a maid would wed,
  Took apples in his hand and on he sped.
  Famed Atalanta's heart was won by this;
  She marked, and maddening sank in Love's abyss.