Fear poems
/ page 247 of 454 /The Nymph Complaining for the Death of her Fawn
© Andrew Marvell
I in a golden vial will
Keep these two crystal tears, and fill
It till it do o’erflow with mine,
Then place it in Diana’s shrine.
The Reading Club
© Patricia Goedicke
Is dead serious about this one, having rehearsed it for two weeks
they bring it right into the Odd Fellows Meeting Hall.
Riding the backs of the Trojan Women,
In Euripides’ great wake they are swept up,
Stanzas To the Memory Of George III
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
'Among many nations was there no King like him.' Nehemiah, xiii, 26.
'Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?' 2 Samuel, iii, 38.
A Ballad of François Villon, Prince of All Ballad-Makers
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Prince of sweet songs made out of tears and fire,
A harlot was thy nurse, a God thy sire;
Shame soiled thy song, and song assoiled thy shame.
But from thy feet now death has washed the mire,
Love reads out first at head of all our quire,
Villon, our sad bad glad mad brother's name.
Contrasted Songs: Song For The Night Of Christ's Resurrection
© Jean Ingelow
(A Humble Imitation)
And birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.
"The falling is the constant mate of fear"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
The falling is the constant mate of fear,
And feel of emptiness is the feel of fright.
Who throws us the stones from the height --
And stones here refuse the dust to bear?
Dogs Are Shakespearean, Children Are Strangers
© Delmore Schwartz
Dogs are Shakespearean, children are strangers.
Let Freud and Wordsworth discuss the child,
Scopolamine (English translation)
© Catherine Pozzi
This wine that flows within my vein
Has drowned my heart and will again
In the sky-with neither captain nor money-
My heart sails into a scene
Where Oblivion melts like honey
English Eclogues VI - The Ruined Cottage
© Robert Southey
I pass this ruin'd dwelling oftentimes
And think of other days. It wakes in me
A transient sadness, but the feelings Charles
That ever with these recollections rise,
I trust in God they will not pass away.
Epilogue to Schiller's Song of the Bell
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Mingled the crowds from ev'ry region brought,
And on the stage, in festal pomp array'd
The HOMAGE OF THE ARTS we saw displayed.
To Mrs. M. A. Upon Absence
© Katherine Philips
Tis now since I began to die
Four months, yet still I gasping live;
Wrappd up in sorrow do I lie,
Hoping, yet doubting a reprieve.
Adam from Paradise expelld
Just such a wretched being held.
Memory
© William Wordsworth
A pen-to register; a key-
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
Paradise Lost: Book I (1674)
© Patrick Kavanagh
So spake th' Apostate Angel, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but rackt with deep despare:
And him thus answer'd soon his bold Compeer.
Under The Rose
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Oh the rose of keenest thorn!
One hidden summer morn
Under the rose I was born.
The Hunting of the Snark
© Lewis Carroll
"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.
Amen
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
It is over. What is over?
Nay, now much is over truly!
Harvest days we toiled to sow for;
Now the sheaves are gathered newly,
Now the wheat is garnered duly.
A Prelude At Evening
© Robert Laurence Binyon
My spirit was like the lonely air
Before night,
Like hovering cloud that's melted there
In the late light,
Metropolitan
© John Fuller
In cities there are tangerine briefcases on the down-platform
and jet parkas on the up-platform; in the mother of cities
there is equal anxiety at all terminals.
West a business breast, North a morose jig, East a false