Fear poems
/ page 114 of 454 /
The Ash Grove
© Edward Thomas
Half of the grove stood dead, and those that yet lived made
Little more than the dead ones made of shade.
If they led to a house, long before they had seen its fall:
But they welcomed me; I was glad without cause and delayed.
Italy : 12. Italy
© Samuel Rogers
Am I in Italy? Is this the Mincius?
Are those the distant turrets of Verona?
And shall I sup where Juliet at the Masque
Saw her loved Montague, and now sleeps by him?
How few are we. Probably three...
© Boris Pasternak
How few are we. Probably three
In all-coallike, burning, infernal
Beneath the grey bark of the tree
Of wisdom, and clouds, and eternal
Debate on verse, transport, the part
The army will play-and on art.
My Room
© George MacDonald
But when, sinking slow, the sun
Leaves the glowing curtain dun,
I, of prophet-insight reft,
Shall be dull and dreamless left;
I must hasten proof on proof,
Weaving in the warp my woof!
Paulo Purganti And His Wife: An Honest, But A Simple Pair
© Matthew Prior
On marry'd Men, that dare be bad,
She thought no Mercy should be had;
They should be hang'd, or starv'd, or flead,
Or serv'd like Romish Priests in Swede.-
In short, all Lewdness She defy'd:
And stiff was her Parochial Pride.
Tale XII
© George Crabbe
'SQUIRE THOMAS; OR THE PRECIPITATE CHOICE.
'Squire Thomas flatter'd long a wealthy Aunt,
Part of an Irregular Fragment
© Helen Maria Williams
I.
Rise, winds of night! relentless tempests, rise!
To One Slain In Absence.
© Arthur Henry Adams
AND so we parted, love, oblivious
That we were parting! With our laughter light,
Flouting the future, on the morrow bright
At our old tryst we would once more discuss
The Borough. Letter XXIV: Schools
© George Crabbe
pride, -
Their room, the sty in which th' assembly meet,
In the close lane behind the Northgate-street;
T'observe his vain attempts to keep the peace,
Till tolls the bell, and strife and troubles cease,
For the Airmen
© Katharine Tynan
THOU who guidest the swallow and wren,
Keep the paths of the flying men!
Operation
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Time, the superb physician, drew his breath,
"I'll just remove Youth, Health and Love," he said,
"The rest is for Consulting-Surgeon Death."
God, how I hated that peremptory head!
As through the ether came his sickening drawl
"Now this won't hurt. . . . Oh, it won't hurt at all."
The Fiddler
© Adelaide Crapsey
"There's be no roof to shelter you;
You'll have no where to lay your head.
Celestial Heights
© Alfred Austin
Hail! steep ascents and winding ways,
Glimmering through melting morning haze,
Hail! mountain herd-bells chiming clear!
Hail! meads and cherry-orchards green,
And hail, thrice hail! thou golden mean,
The châlet's simple cheer!
A True Account of the Birth and Conception of a Late Famous Poem call'd The Female Nine
© Charles Sackville
When Monmouth the chaste read those impudent lines
Which ty'd her dear monkey so fast by the loins,
The Poor Can Feed the Birds
© John Shaw Neilson
Ragged, unheeded, stooping, meanly shod,
The poor pass to the pond: not far away
The spires go up to God.
Brightens Sister-In-Law [or The Carrier's Story]
© Henry Lawson
AT A POINT where the old road crosses
The river, and turns to the right,
The Sower
© James Russell Lowell
I saw a Sower walking slow
Across the earth, from east to west;
His hair was white as mountain snow,
His head drooped forward on his breast.
