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Idyll XV. The Festival of Adonis
© Theocritus
PRAXINOAe.
Yes, Gorgo dear! At last!
That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair,
A cushion, Eunoae!
The Master
© Oscar Wilde
Now when the darkness came over the earth Joseph of Arimathea,
having lighted a torch of pinewood, passed down from the hill into
the valley. For he had business in his own home.
Song of Unending Sorrow.
© Bai Juyi
China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,
To A Sister
© George MacDonald
A fresh young voice that sings to me
So often many a simple thing,
Should surely not unanswered be
By all that I can sing.
The Dance
© Hart Crane
Mythical brows we saw retiringloth,
Disturbed and destined, into denser green.
Greeting they sped us, on the arrows oath:
Now lie incorrigibly what years between . .
The Authors: A Satire
© Richard Savage
"HOLD, Criticks cry-Erroneous are your Lays,
"Your Field was Satire, your Pursuit is Praise."
True, you Profound!-I praise, but yet I sneer;
You're dark to Beauties, if to Errors clear!
Know my Lampoon's in Panegyric seen,
For just Applause turns Satire on your Spleen.
To My Mother
© John Le Gay Brereton
Once more the Christian festival is near,
And I, for whom each day repeats all days
Song Of The Hindustanee Minstrel
© Henry Louis Vivian Derozio
With surmah tinge the black eye's fringe,
'Twill sparkle like a star;
With roses dress each raven tress,
My only loved Dildar!
The Witch of Hebron
© Charles Harpur
Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare
Of Indian and Armenian workmanship
Which might have seemed a wonder of the world:
And trains of servitors of every clime,
Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians,
In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls.
The Spirit Of The Age
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
A wondrous light is filling the air,
And rimming the clouds of the old despair;
The Ring And The Book - Chapter V - Count Guido Franceschini
© Robert Browning
That is a way, thou whisperest in my ear!
I doubt, I will decide, then act, said I
Then beckoned my companions: Time is come!
The Wind At Night
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O SUDDEN blast, that through this silence black
Sweeps past my windows,
Coming and going with invisible track
As death or sin does,--
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Student's Tale; The Falcon of Ser Federigo
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Who is thy mother, my fair boy?" he said,
His hand laid softly on that shining head.
"Monna Giovanna. Will you let me stay
A little while, and with your falcon play?
We live there, just beyond your garden wall,
In the great house behind the poplars tall."
The Prairie School
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE sweet west wind, the prairie school a break in the yellow wheat,
The prairie trail that wanders by to the place where the four winds meet--
A trail with never an end at all to the children's eager feet.
Water-Party On The Beaulieu River, In The New Forest
© William Lisle Bowles
I thought 'twas a toy of the fancy, a dream
That leads with illusion the senses astray,
And I sighed with delight as we stole down the stream,
While the sun, as he smiled on our sail, seemed to say,
Rejoice in my light, ere it fade fast away!
Coming Home
© Augusta Davies Webster
Anyhow
I've poetry and music too to-day
in the very clatter: it goes "Home, home, home."
Elegy XVI. He Suggests the Advantage of Birth To a Person of Merit
© William Shenstone
When genius, graced with lineal splendour, glows,
When title shines, with ambient virtues crown'd,
Like some fair almond's flowery pomp it shows,
The pride, the perfume, of the regions round.
Two Lovers And A Beachcomber By The Real Sea
© Sylvia Plath
Cold and final, the imagination
Shuts down its fabled summer house;
Blue views are boarded up; our sweet vacation
Dwindles in the hour-glass.
Pelleas And Ettarre
© Alfred Tennyson
King Arthur made new knights to fill the gap
Left by the Holy Quest; and as he sat
In hall at old Caerleon, the high doors
Were softly sundered, and through these a youth,
Pelleas, and the sweet smell of the fields
Past, and the sunshine came along with him.
The Star Of Bethlehem
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Where Time the measure of his hours
By changeful bud and blossom keeps,
And, like a young bride crowned with flowers,
Fair Shiraz in her garden sleeps;
