Fear poems
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A Ballad Of Baseball Burdens
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Ah, Fans, let not the Quarry but the Chase
Be that to which most fondly we aspire!
For us not Stake, but Game; not Goal, but Race -
A Prayer
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O Thou who seekest me
Through the day's heartless hurry and uproar,
Who followest me to my thought's farthest shore--
Nay, who art gone before--
Rural Sports: A Georgic - Canto II.
© John Gay
Now, sporting muse, draw in the flowing reins,
Leave the clear streams a while for sunny plains.
Assurance
© George Herbert
O Spitefull bitter thought!
Bitterly spitefull thought! Couldst thou invent
So high a torture? Is such poyson boguht?
Doubtlesse, but in the way of punishment,
When wit contrives to meet with thee,
No such rank poyson can there be.
Woman's Love
© Alaric Alexander Watts
'Tis morn: o'er Kyburg's castled crag day's first faint streak appears,
Like the ray of Truth through Error's mists, or the smile through Woman's tears;
The Land Of Pallas
© Archibald Lampman
Methought I journeyed along ways that led for ever
Throughout a happy land where strife and care were dead,
And life went by me flowing like a placid river
Past sandy eyots where the shifting shoals make head.
A Boy
© Sara Teasdale
OUT of the noise of tired people working,
Harried with thoughts of war and lists of dead,
His beauty met me like a fresh wind blowing,
Clean boyish beauty and high-held head.
Vision Of Columbus - Book 8
© Joel Barlow
And now the Angel, from the trembling sight,
Veil'd the wide worldwhen sudden shades of night
Sonnet LXI
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Supposed to have been written in America.
ILL-omen'd bird! whose cries portentous float
O'er yon savannah with the mournful wind;
While, as the Indian hears your piercing note,
An Answer To A Copy Of Verses Sent Me To Jersey
© Abraham Cowley
As to a northern people (whom the sun
Uses just as the Romish church has done
Banished from Massachusetts
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Over the threshold of his pleasant home
Set in green clearings passed the exiled Friend,
The Mourner For The Barmecides
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
"And shall I not rejoice to go, when the noble and the brave,
With the glory on their brows, are gone before me to the grave?
What is there left to look on now, what brightness in the land?–
I hold in scorn the faded world, that wants their princely band!
The Dark That Was Is Here
© Eli Siegel
A girl, in ancient Greece,
Be sure, had no more peace
Than one in Idaho.
To feel and yet to know
The Ballad Of Boh Da Thone
© Rudyard Kipling
This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone,
Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne,
Who harried the district of Alalone:
How he met with his fate and the V.P.P.
At the hand of Harendra Mukerji,
Senior Gomashta, G.B.T.
Voice Of New England
© John Greenleaf Whittier
UP the hillside, down the glen,
Rouse the sleeping citizen;
Summon out the might of men!
Like a lion growling low,
Afar In The Desert
© Thomas Pringle
Afar in the Desert I love to ride,
With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side:
The Flitting
© John Clare
I've left my own old home of homes,
Green fields and every pleasant place;
The Foray Of Con ODonnell. A.D. 1495
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The evening shadows sweetly fall
Along the hills of Donegal,
Mother And Son
© Allen Tate
The falcon mother cannot will her hand
Up to the bed, nor break the manacle
His exile sets upon her harsh command
That he should say the time is beautiful-
Transfigured by her own possessing light:
The sick man craves the impalpable night.
