Fear poems
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The Young Captive
© Toru Dutt
The budding shoot ripens unharmed by the scythe,Without fear of the press, on vine branches lithe, Through spring-tide the green clusters bloom
An Evening Contemplation in a College
© Duncombe John
The Curfew tolls the hour of closing gates,With jarring sound the porter turns the key,Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits,And slowly, sternly quits it -- tho' for me.
The Hind and the Panther: Part I
© John Dryden
A milk-white Hind, immortal and unchang'd,Fed on the lawns, and in the forest rang'd;Without unspotted, innocent within,She fear'd no danger, for she knew no sin
Ode to the Virginian Voyage
© Michael Drayton
You brave heroic minds,Worthy your country's name,That honour still pursue,Go and subdue!Whilst loit'ring hindsLurk here at home with shame.
Idea XXXI
© Michael Drayton
Methinks I see some crooked mimic jeerAnd tax my muse with this fantastic grace,Turning my papers, asks "what have we here?"Making withall some filthy antic face
To Ennui
© Joseph Rodman Drake
Avaunt! arch enemy of fun, Grim nightmare of the mind;Which way great Momus! shall I run, A refuge safe to find?My puppy's dead -- Miss Rumor's breath Is stopt for lack of news,And Fitz is almost hyp'd to death, And Lang has got the blues
To Mr. T. W. [Pregnant again with th'old twins, Hope and Fear...]
© John Donne
Pregnant again with th' old twins, Hope and Fear,Oft have I asked for thee, both how and whereThou wert, and what my hopes of letters were;
The Perfume
© John Donne
Once, and but once found in thy company,All thy suppos'd escapes are laid on me;And as a thief at bar is question'd thereBy all the men that have been robb'd that year,So am I, (by this traitorous means surpriz'd)By thy hydroptic father catechiz'd
Jealousy
© John Donne
Fond woman, which wouldst have thy husband die,And yet complain'st of his great jealousy;If, swollen with poison, he lay in his last bed,His body with a sere bark covered,Drawing his breath as thick and short as canThe nimblest crocheting musician,Ready with loathsome vomiting to spewHis soul out of one hell into a new,Made deaf with his poor kindred's howling cries,Begging with few feign'd tears great legacies,Thou wouldst not weep, but jolly, and frolic be,As a slave, which to-morrow should be free
The Comparison
© John Donne
As the sweet sweat of roses in a still,As that which from chaf'd musk cat's pores doth trill,As the almighty balm of th' early east,Such are the sweat drops of my mistress' breast;And on her neck her skin such lustre sets,They seem no sweat drops, but pearl carcanets
Beyond
© Dolben Digby (Mackworth)
Beyond the calumny and wrong,Beyond the clamour and the throng,Beyond the praise and triumph-song, He passed
A Nupial Eve
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
The murmur of the mourning ghost That keeps the shadowy kine,"Oh, Keith of Ravelston, The sorrows of thy line!"
he fell into my arms and said
© Pier Giorgio Di Cicco
he fell into my arms and said"sometimes god takes what we love most. he knows best".i agree.so I made up something as i buried his grandchildren.
Cooper's Hill (1655)
© Sir John Denham
Sure there are poets which did never dreamUpon Parnassus, nor did taste the streamOf Helicon, we therefore may supposeThose made not poets, but the poets those
Cooper's Hill (1642)
© Sir John Denham
Sure we have poets that did never dreamUpon Parnassus, nor did taste the streamOf Helicon, and therefore I supposeThose made not poets, but the poets those
The Life of Man
© William Henry Davies
All from his cradle to his grave,Poor devil, man's a frightened fool;His Mother talks of imps and ghosts,His Master threatens him at school
