Fear poems
/ page 109 of 454 /Gotham - Book I
© Charles Churchill
Far off (no matter whether east or west,
A real country, or one made in jest,
The Centennial Year
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
A Hundred years and she had sat, a queen
Sheltering her children, opening wide her gates
To all the inflowing tribes of earth. At first
Storms raged around her; but her stumbling feet
To Mary, On Receiving Her Picture
© George Gordon Byron
This faint resemblance of thy charms,
(Though strong as mortal art could give,)
My constant heart of fear disarms,
Revives my hopes, and bids me live.
Bourke's Dream
© Anonymous
I dreamt I was homeward, back over the mountain track,
With joy my mother fainted and gave a loud scream.
With the shock I awoke, just as the day had broke,
And found myself an exile, and 'twas all but a dream.
A Thrush Before Dawn
© Alice Meynell
A voice peals in this end of night
A phrase of notes resembling stars,
Single and spiritual notes of light.
What call they at my window-bars?
The South, the past, the day to be,
An ancient infelicity.
The Climate Of Danger
© Weldon Kees
The middle is the place to stand
If there can be one solid spot,
The Borough. Letter XV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Clelia
© George Crabbe
Another term is past; ten other years
In various trials, troubles, views, and fears:
Of these some pass'd in small attempts at trade;
Houses she kept for widowers lately made;
For now she said, "They'll miss th' endearing
Fairy Favours
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Wouldst thou wear the gift of immortal bloom?
Wouldst thou smile in scorn at the shadowy tomb?
Drink of this cup! it is richly fraught
With balm from the gardens of genii brought;
Drink, and the spoiler shall pass thee by,
When the young all scatter'd like rose-leaves lie.
Fragment
© Frances Anne Kemble
FROM AN EPISTLE WRITTEN WHEN THE THERMOMETER STOOD AT 98° IN THE SHADE.
Whitsunday
© John Keble
When God of old came down from Heaven,
In power and wrath He came;
Before His feet the clouds were riven,
Half darkness and half flame:
Gratitude, Addressed To Lady Hesketh
© William Cowper
This cap, that so stately apepars,
With ribbon-bound tassel on high,
Which seems by the crest that it rears
Ambitious of brushing the sky;
Far, Far Away Is Mirth Withdrawn
© Emily Jane Brontë
Far, far away is mirth withdrawn
'Tis three long hours before the morn
And I watch lonely, drearily
So come thou shade commune with me
Sonnet XV
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
Like a bad suitor desperate and trembling
From the mixed sense of being not loved and loving,
Brothers
© James Weldon Johnson
See! There he stands; not brave, but with an air
Of sullen stupor. Mark him well! Is he
Not more like brute than man? Look in his eye!
No light is there; none, save the glint that shines
In the now glaring, and now shifting orbs
Of some wild animal caught in the hunter's trap.
Lycus the Centaur
© Thomas Hood
FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS
(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).