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Cymru
© George Essex Evans
Dim in the mist of ages, seeking a resting-place,
Broke on the shores of Britain the wave of an Aryan race.
The Song Of Hiawatha XIX: The Ghosts
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Never stoops the soaring vulture
On his quarry in the desert,
Shooting
© Henry James Pye
The Monarch hears, and with reluctant eyes
Gives the consent his boding heart denies;
His brow a placid guise dissembling wears,
While Reason vainly combats stronger fears.
Italy : 31. A Funeral
© Samuel Rogers
'Whence this delay?' "Along the crowded street
A Funeral comes, and with unusual pomp."
So I withdrew a little, and stood still,
While it went by. 'She died as she deserved,'
At The Ferry
© Archibald Lampman
On such a day the shrunken stream
Spends its last water and runs dry;
Ah! Where Are Hours Departed Fled? (excerpt)
© Walther von der Vogelweide
Ah! where are hours departed fled?
Is life a dream, or true indeed?
Lockerbie Street
© Bliss William Carman
For The Brthday Of James Whitcomb Riley, October 7, 1914
LOCKERBIE STREET is a little street,
Just one block long;
But the days go there with a magical air,
A dialogue between Sir Henry Wootton and Mr. Donne
© John Donne
IF her disdain least change in you can move,
You do not love,
For when that hope gives fuel to the fire,
You sell desire.
Love is not love, but given free ;
And so is mine ; so should yours be.
To Sergei Esenin
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
You have passed, as they say, into worlds elsewhere.
Emptiness...
Fly, cutting your way into starry dubiety.
No advances, no pubs for you there.
With Deaths' Prophetic Ear
© Frank Dalby Davison
Lay my rifle here beside me, set my Bible on my breast,
For a moment let the warning bugles cease;
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: XCVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
ON THE SHORTNESS OF TIME
If I could live without the thought of death,
Forgetful of time's waste, the soul's decay,
I would not ask for other joy than breath
The Will To Live
© Edith Nesbit
Not to desire, to admit, to adore,
Casting the robe of the soul that you wore
Just as the soul casts the body's robe down.
This is man's destiny, this is man's crown.
This is the splendour, the end of the feast;
This is the light of the Star in the East.
The True Heaven
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE bliss for which our spirits pine,
That bliss we feel shall yet be given,
Somehow, in some far realm divine,
Some marvellous state we call a heaven.
The Old Flame
© Robert Lowell
My old flame, my wife!
Remember our lists of birds?
One morning last summer, I drove
by our house in Maine. It was still
on top of its hill -
Change
© Boris Pasternak
I used to glorify the poor,
Not simply lofty views expressing:
Their lives alone, I felt, were true,
Devoid of pomp and window-dressing.
Arcadia Rediviva
© James Russell Lowell
I, walking the familiar street,
While a crammed horse-car jingled through it,
Was lifted from my prosy feet
And in Arcadia ere I knew it.
Woman
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
LADY, although we have not met,
And may not meet, beneath the sky;
And whether thine are eyes of jet,
Gray, or dark blue, or violet,
Or hazel—heaven knows, not I;
To Jane: The Recollection
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Now the last day of many days,
All beautiful and bright as thou,
The loveliest and the last, is dead,
A Message Of Jeff Davis In Secret Session
© James Russell Lowell
I sent you a messige, my friens, t'other day,
To tell you I'd nothin' pertickler to say:
The Visions Of Bellay
© Edmund Spenser
IT was the time, when rest soft sliding downe
From heauens hight into mens heauy eyes,
