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/ page 98 of 246 /Rhaposdy
© William Stanley Braithwaite
I am glad daylong for the gift of song,
For time and change and sorrow;
"Six years, six cycles of dead hours"
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Six years, six cycles of dead hours,
Six falls of leaves, six births of flowers!
It is not that, you know full well,
That makes my labouring bosom swell,
The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The First
© Mark Akenside
With what attractive charms this goodly frame
Of nature touches the consenting hearts
The Judgement of Hercules
© William Shenstone
Wrapp'd in a pleased suspense, the youth survey'd
The various charms of each attractive maid:
Alternate each he view'd, and each admired,
And found, alternate, varying flames inspired:
Quick o'er their forms his eyes with pleasure ran,
When she, who first approach'd him, first began:-
The Bread Of Angels
© Edith Wharton
At last, upon my wonder drawn, I followed
The secret wanderers till I saw them pause
Before the dying glare of those tall panes
Where greed and surfeit nodded face to face
O'er the picked bones of pleasure . . .
And the door opened and the nuns went in.
By Any Other Name
© James Whitcomb Riley
First the teacher called the roll,
Clos't to the beginnin',
The Death Of Shelley
© Charles Harpur
Fit winding-sheet for thee
Was the upheaving eternal sea,
Fit dirge the tempests slave-alarming roll
For yokeless as the waves alway
Italy : 15. Luigi
© Samuel Rogers
Happy is he who loves companionship,
And lights on thee, Luigi. Thee I found,
Playing at Mora on the cabin-roof
With Punchinello. -- 'Tis a game to strike
The Martyrdom Of St. Christina, By Vincenzo Catena, In The Church Of Santa Maria Mater Domini, At Ve
© Richard Monckton Milnes
ST. CHRISTINA.
(KNEELING.)
I knew, I knew, it would be so,
That, in this long--expected hour,
The Princess (part 5)
© Alfred Tennyson
Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
'She must weep or she will die.'
Einstein
© Archibald MacLeish
Standing between the sun and moon preserves
A certain secrecy. Or seems to keep
To The Same
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Töchterchenlein, by whom the least became
The greatest title of dear Daughterhood,
The Mother's Return
© William Wordsworth
A MONTH, sweet Little-ones, is past
Since your dear Mother went away,--
And she tomorrow will return;
Tomorrow is the happy day.
The Helot
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Low the sun beat on the land,
Red on vine and plain and wood;
With the wine-cup in his hand,
Vast the Helot herdsman stood.
Orpheus
© Emma Lazarus
ORPHEUS.
LAUGHTER and dance, and sounds of harp and lyre,
Piping of flutes, singing of festal songs,
Ribbons of flame from flaunting torches, dulled
The Passionate Pilgrim
© William Shakespeare
Her lips to mine how often hath she joined,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me bath she coined,
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.