Design poems
/ page 46 of 69 /
The Contented Man's Morice
© George Wither
False world, thy malice I espie
With what thou hast designed;
And therein with thee to comply,
Who likewise are combined:
But, do thy worst, I thee defie,
Thy mischiefs are confined.
Queen Mab: Part V.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Thus do the generations of the earth
Go to the grave and issue from the womb,
The Peasant And His Angry Lord
© Jean de La Fontaine
'TWAS vain that Gregory a pardon prayed;
For trivial faults the peasant dearly paid;
His throat enflamed-his tender back well beat-
His money gone-and all to make complete,
Without the least deduction for the pain,
The blows and garlic gave the trembling swain.
Translation Of Part Of The First Book Of The Aeneid
© William Wordsworth
THE EDITORS OF THE PHILOLOGICAL MUSEUM
BUT Cytherea, studious to invent
Tale XIII
© George Crabbe
hall,
Sires, sons, and sons of sons, were buried all,
She then abounded, and had wealth to spare
For softening grief she once was doom'd to share;
Thus train'd in misery's school, and taught to
HMS Pinafore: Act I
© William Schwenck Gilbert
SCENE - Quarter-deck of H.M.S. Pinafore. Sailors, led by
Boatswain, discovered cleaning brasswork, splicing rope, etc.
Gotham - Book III
© Charles Churchill
Can the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The Lily And The Rose
© William Cowper
The nymph must lose her female friend
If more admired than she, -
But where will fierce contention end
If flowers can disagree?
The Poet Orders His Tomb
© Edgar Bowers
I summon up Panofskv from his bed
Among the famous dead
To build a tomb which, since I am not read,
Suffers the stones mortality instead;
The Word
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
In the days when the God eternal
Was declining face to the new world,
By the Word they stopped the suns inferno,
And destroyed the towns by the Word.
Book Third [Residence at Cambridge]
© William Wordsworth
IT was a dreary morning when the wheels
Rolled over a wide plain o'erhung with clouds,
And nothing cheered our way till first we saw
The long-roofed chapel of King's College lift
Turrets and pinnacles in answering files,
Extended high above a dusky grove.
An Old Doll
© Ada Cambridge
Low on her little stool she sits
To make a nursing lap,
And cares for nothing but the form
Her little arms enwrap.
Truth
© William Cowper
Man, on the dubious waves of error toss'd,
His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost,
Metamorphoses: Book The Fifth
© Ovid
The End of the Fifth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
AN ELEGY Occasioned by the losse of the most incomparable Lady Stanhope, daughter to the Earl of Nor
© Henry King
Lightned by that dimme Torch our sorrow bears
We sadly trace thy Coffin with our tears;
And though the Ceremonious Rites are past
Since thy fair body into earth was cast;
The Dunciad: Book IV
© Alexander Pope
She mounts the throne: her head a cloud conceal'd,
In broad effulgence all below reveal'd;
('Tis thus aspiring Dulness ever shines)
Soft on her lap her laureate son reclines.
The Courtship Of Miles Standish
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thereupon answered the youth: "Indeed I do not condemn you;
Stouter hearts that a woman's have quailed in this terrible winter.
Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on;
So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage
Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!"
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act III
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
LUIS. Oh, that name
Do not mention! do not kill me
By repeating what doth thrill me
To the centre of my frame
As with lightning. Yes, I know
That at length Polonia died.
