Fear poems
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God Rest you Merry, Gentlemen
© Anonymous
God rest you merry, gentlemen, Let nothing you dismay,For Jesus Christ our Saviour Was born upon this day,To save us all from Satan's power When we were gone astray
The Fight at Montgomery's
© Anonymous
They have met -- that small band, resolved to be free,As the fierce winds of Heaven that course over the sea --They have met, in bright hope, with no presage of fear,Tho' the bugle and drum of the foeman they hear:Some seize the dread rifle, some wield the tall pike,For God and their country -- for Freedom they strike,No proud ensign of glory bespeaks their renown,Yet the scorn of defiance now darkens their frown
The Douglas Tragedy
© Anonymous
."Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas,." she says, ."And put on your armour so bright;Let it never be said that a daughter of thine Was married to a lord under night.
The Djinns
© Anonymous
Town, tower. Shore, deep, Where lower Cliffs steep; Waves gray. Where play Winds gay, -- All sleep.
Adieu Vain World I've Seen Enough of Thee
© Anonymous
Cheltenham. This Stone is erected By the Voluntary Contribution of Servants To the Memory of WILLIAM DAVIS, who died in the service of Major Webber, August 21st, 1798, Aged 47 years.
The Campaign
© Joseph Addison
While crowds of princes your deserts proclaim,Proud in their number to enroll your name;While emperors to you commit their cause,And Anna's praises crown the vast applause,Accept, great leader, what the muse indites,That in ambitious verse records your fights,Fir'd and transported with a theme so new:Ten thousand wonders op'ning to my viewShine forth at once, sieges and storms appear,And wars and conquests fill th' important year,Rivers of blood I see, and hills of slain;An Iliad rising out of one campaign
An Account of the Greatest English Poets (complete)
© Joseph Addison
Since, dearest Harry, you will needs requestA short account of all the muse possess'd;That, down from Chaucer's days to Dryden's times,Have spent their noble rage in British rhymes;Without more preface, wrote in formal length,To speak the undertaker's want of strength,I'll try to make their sev'ral beauties known,And show their verses' worth, though not my own
By the Marshes of Tantramar
© Adams Mary Electa
Evening is falling with a star:I wander lonely and afarDown by the marshes of Tantramar.
David
© Earle Birney
IDavid and I that summer cut trails on the Survey,All week in the valley for wages, in air that was steepedIn the wail of mosquitoes, but over the sunalive weekendsWe climbed, to get from the ruck of the camp, the surly
Poker, the wrangling, the snoring under the fetidTents, and because we had joy in our lengthening coltishMuscles, and mountains for David were made to see over,Stairs from the valleys and steps to the sun's retreats
The Burning Of The Leaves
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The last hollyhock's fallen tower is dust;
All the spices of June are a bitter reek,
All the extravagant riches spent and mean.
All burns! The reddest rose is a ghost;
Sparks whirl up, to expire in the mist: the wild
Fingers of fire are making corruption clean.
Blessens A-Left
© William Barnes
Lik' souls a-toss'd at sea I bore
Sad strokes o' trial, shock by shock,
The Dance At Darmstadt
© Alfred Austin
In the city of Darmstadt, the Sabbath morn
Shone over the broad Cathedral Square,
And to nobly, richly, and lowly born,
The belfry carilloned call to prayer.
Songs Of The Season
© Alexander Bathgate
Bird in thy mossy nest
Cosily hid,
Bird in thy mossy nest
Young leaves amid;
None Upon Earth I Desire Besides Thee
© John Newton
How tedious and tasteless the hours,
When Jesus no longer I see;
