Fear poems
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Sonnet LXV: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
© William Shakespeare
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
But sad mortality oer-sways their power,
From Lines to William Simson
© Robert Burns
Auld Coila now may fidge fu' fain,
She's gotten poets o' her ain—
Chiels wha their chanters winna hain,
But tune their lays,
Till echoes a' resound again
Her weel-sung praise.
Ballad of John Cable and Three Gentlemen
© William Stanley Merwin
He that had come that morning,
One after the other,
Over seven hills,
Each of a new color,
Love
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.
To Joanna
© William Wordsworth
AMID the smoke of cities did you pass
The time of early youth; and there you learned,
Sonnet XLVIII. Gladstone.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
FOR Peace, and all that follows in her path
Nor slighting honor and his country's fame,
He stood unmoved, and dared to face the blame
Of party-spirit and its turbid wrath.
More Sonnets At Christmas
© Allen Tate
Suppose I take an arrogant bomber, stroke
By stroke, up to the frazzled sun to hear
Sun-ghostlings whisper: Yes, the capital yoke—
Remove it and there’s not a ghost to fear
This crucial day, whose decapitate joke
Languidly winds into the inner ear.
Long time a child, and still a child, when years
© Victor Segalen
Long time a child, and still a child, when years
Had painted manhood on my cheek, was I,
Lenten Song
© Phillis Levin
That the dead are real to us
Cannot be denied,
That the living are more real
Quiet Dead!
© George MacDonald
Quiet, quiet dead,
Have ye aught to say
From your hidden bed
In the earthy clay?
To Women
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Your hearts are lifted up, your hearts
That have foreknown the utter price.
Your hearts burn upward like a flame
Of splendour and of sacrifice.
Morte d'Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere:
"It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus,
Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm.
A little thing may harm a wounded man.
Yet I thy hest will all perform at full,
Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word."
The Ghost
© Richard Harris Barham
There stands a City,- neither large nor small,
Its air and situation sweet and pretty;
The Black Destrier. A Ballad Of The Third Crusade
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
FIRST 'mid the lion Richard's host,
Sir Aymer fought in Holy Land;
And they loved him well for his honest heart,
And they feared, for his stalwart hand.
Thrice Toss These Oaken Ashes
© Thomas Campion
Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air,
Thrice sit thou mute in this enchanted chair,
Then thrice three times tie up this true love's knot,
And murmur soft "She will, or she will not."
Caliban upon Setebos
© Robert Browning
'Thinketh He made it, with the sun to match,
But not the stars; the stars came otherwise;
Only made clouds, winds, meteors, such as that:
Also this isle, what lives and grows thereon,
And snaky sea which rounds and ends the same.
Chant d'automne (Song Of Autumn)
© Charles Baudelaire
Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres;
Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts!
J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres
Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours.
Low Barometer
© John Hall Wheelock
The south-wind strengthens to a gale,
Across the moon the clouds fly fast,
The house is smitten as with a flail,
The chimney shudders to the blast.
For love I, too, could die (she said) nor fear it,
© Robert Crawford
Such love as some of the dead queens have had
Whose sorrow matched their beauty. I could bear it,
And I think die too, to have been so glad.
With the sweet wonder in a great light lying
