Fear poems
/ page 198 of 454 /
Ballades II - Of The Book-Hunter
© Andrew Lang
Prince, all the things that tease and please,
Fame, hope, wealth, kisses, cheers, and tears,
What are they but such toys as these,
Aldines, Bodonis, Elzevirs?
Life
© Emile Verhaeren
To see beauty in all, is to lift our own Soul
Up to loftier heights than do chose who aspire
Through culpable suffering, vanquished desire.
Harsh Reality, dread and ineffable Whole,
Distils her red draught, enough tonic and stern
To intoxicate heads and to make the heart burn.
Sun And Flesh (Credo In Unam)
© Arthur Rimbaud
The vast heaven is open! the mysteries lie dead
Before erect Man, who folds his strong arms
Among the vast splendour of abundant Nature!
He sings... and the woods sing, the river murmurs
A song full of happiness which rises towards the light!...
- it is Redemption! it is love! it is love!...
The Grey Monk (excerpts)
© William Blake
"I die, I die!" the Mother said,
"My children die for lack of bread.
What more has the merciless Tyrant said?"
The Monk sat down on the stony bed.
Epitaph On Holy Willie
© Robert Burns
Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay
Taks up its last abode;
His saul has ta'en some other way,
I fear, the left-hand road.
Loud Shout The Flaming Tongues Of War
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
TA'N SIONAC AR SRAIDIB AG FAIRE GO CAOCRAC
Loud shout the flaming tongues of war.
Sunday Next Before Advent
© John Keble
Will God indeed with fragments bear,
Snatched late from the decaying year?
The Storm
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Fear was within the tossing bark,
When stormy winds grew loud;
And waves came rolling high and dark,
And the tall mast was bowed.
Drought
© William Henry Ogilvie
I have withered the grass where my hot hoofs tread,
I have whitened the sapless trees,
I have driven the faint-heart rains ahead
To hide in their soft green seas.
When at Thy Footstool, Lord, I Bend
© Henry Francis Lyte
When at Thy footstool, Lord, I bend,
And plead with Thee for mercy there,
Think of the sinners dying Friend,
And for His sake receive my prayer.
Prevision
© Aline Murray Kilmer
I know you are too dear to stay;
You are so exquisitely sweet:
My lonely house will thrill some day
To echoes of your eager feet.
Night-Scene in Genoa
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
He pauses - from the partiarch's brow
There beams more lofty grandeur now;
His reverend form, his aged hand,
Assume a gesture of command,
His voice is awful, and his eye
Fill's with prophetic majesty.
The Linnet And The Cat
© Helen Maria Williams
WHEN fading Autumn's latest hours
Strip the brown wood, and chill the flowers,--
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - October
© George MacDonald
1.
REMEMBER, Lord, thou hast not made me good.
At Castle Wood
© Emily Jane Brontë
The day is done, the winter sun
Is setting in its sullen sky;
And drear the course that has been run,
And dim the hearts that slowly die.
The Song Of Hiawatha XIII: Blessing The Cornfields
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sing, O Song of Hiawatha,
Of the happy days that followed,
Spring Offensive [unfinished]
© Wilfred Owen
Halted against the shade of a last hill,
They fed, and lying easy, were at ease
And, finding comfortable chests and knees,
Carelessly slept. But many there stood still
To face the stark blank sky beyond the ridge,
Knowing their feet had come to the end of the world.
