Fear poems
/ page 283 of 454 /Vision Of Columbus - Book 7
© Joel Barlow
Hail sacred Peace, who claim'st thy bright abode,
Mid circling saints that grace the throne of God.
A Passage In The Moriae Encomium Of Erasmus. Imitated
© Matthew Prior
In awful pomp and melancholy state,
See settled Reason on the judgement-seat;
Manfred: A Dramatic Poem. Act III.
© George Gordon Byron
HERMAN
It wants but one till sunset,
And promises a lovely twilight.
Tale VII
© George Crabbe
view,
A useful lass,--you may have more to do."
Dreadful were these commands; but worse than
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - July
© George MacDonald
1.
ALAS, my tent! see through it a whirlwind sweep!
The Woman That Was A Sinner
© George MacDonald
His face, his words, her heart awoke;
Awoke her slumbering truth;
She judged him well; her bonds she broke,
And fled to him for ruth.
Pocahontas
© William Makepeace Thackeray
Wearied arm and broken sword
Wage in vain the desperate fight:
The Spectre Pig
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
IT was the stalwart butcher man,
That knit his swarthy brow,
And said the gentle Pig must die,
And sealed it with a vow.
On The Alienation Of A Friend
© Confucius
Gently and soft the east wind blows,
And then there falls the pelting rain.
When anxious fears pressed round you close,
Then linked together were we twain.
Now happy, and your mind at rest,
You turn and cast me from your breast.
Song Of The Negro Boatman
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, praise an' tanks! De Lord he come
To set de people free;
An' massa tink it day ob doom,
An' we ob jubilee.
Thiepval Wood
© Edmund Blunden
The tired air groans as the heavies swing over, the river-hollows boom;
The shell-fountains leap from the swamps, and with wildfire and fume
Epilogue: Songs Before Sunrise
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Between the wave-ridge and the strand
I let you forth in sight of land,
The Soul
© Madison Julius Cawein
A heritage of hopes and fears
And dreams and memory,
And vices of ten thousand years
God gives to thee.
We'll go No More A-Roving
© William Ernest Henley
We'll go no more a-roving by the light of the moon.
November glooms are barren beside the dusk of June.
The summer flowers are faded, the summer thoughts are sere.
We'll go no more a-roving, lest worse befall, my dear.
The Drovers
© Henry Lawson
Shrivelled leather, rusty buckles, and the rot is in our knuckles,
Scorched for months upon the pommel while the brittle rein hung free;
Napoleon the Little
© Victor Marie Hugo
How well I knew this stealthy wolf would howl
When in the eagle talons ta'en in air!
A-glow, I snatched thee from thy prey, fowl!
I held thee, abject conqueror, just where
To The Reverend Mr. Mabell, Of Cambridge
© Mary Barber
From Noise, and Nonsense, and vain Laughte free,
I steal a thoughtful Hour, and give to thee;
To thee, Conductor of my heedless Youth,
Who taught me first to rev'rence Sense, and Truth;
Virtue to praise; and boldly Vice deride,
With all the Pomp of Fashion on her Side.