Fear poems
/ page 286 of 454 /
Spanish Guerillas
© William Wordsworth
THEY seek, are sought; to daily battle led,
Shrink not, though far outnumbered by their Foes,
For they have learnt to open and to close
The ridges of grim war; and at their head
The Virtuous Man
© George Wither
Thus fears the man whom virtue, beacon-like,
Hath fix'd upon the hills of eminence;
The Grave By The Lake
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Where the Great Lake's sunny smiles
Dimple round its hundred isles,
And the mountain's granite ledge
Cleaves the water like a wedge,
Ringed about with smooth, gray stones,
Rest the giant's mighty bones.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter IV - Tertium Quid
© Robert Browning
Is so far clear? You know Violante now,
Compute her capability of crime
By this authentic instance? Black hard cold
Crime like a stone you kick up with your foot
I the middle of a field?
Colin's Mistakes. Written In Imitation Of Spenser's Style
© Matthew Prior
Fast by the banks of Cam was Colin bred,
(Ye Nymphs, for every guard that sacred stream)
New Country
© Mary Hannay Foott
Conde had come with us all the way -
Eight hundred miles - but the fortnight's rest
Made him fresh as a youngster, the sturdy bay!
And Lurline was looking her very best.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: LIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
Farewell, then. It is finished. I forgo
With this all right in you, even that of tears.
If I have spoken hardly, it will show
A Story Of Doom: Book V.
© Jean Ingelow
And Japhet, having found his father, said,
"Sir, let me also journey when ye go."
Who answered, "Hath thy mother done her part?"
The Thunderstorm
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
DEEP, fiery clouds o'ercast the sky,
Dead stillness reigns in air,
There is not e'en a breeze, on high
The gossamer to bear.
Hymn To The Sun
© Matthew Prior
Light of the World, and Ruler of the Year,
With happy Speed begin Thy great Career;
The Dreams That Came True
© Jean Ingelow
I saw in a vision once, our mother-sphere
The world, her fixed foredooméd oval tracing,
Rolling and rolling on and resting never,
While like a phantom fell, behind her pacing
The unfurled flag of night, her shadow drear
Fled as she fled and hung to her forever.
"Behold Vale! I Said, When I Shall Con"
© William Wordsworth
"Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con
Those many records of my childish years,
Retrospect: The Jests Of The Clock
© Robert Graves
He had met hours of the clock he never guessed before-
Dumb, dragging, mirthless hours confused with dreams and fear,
Bone-chilling, hungry hours when the Gods sleep and snore,
Bequeathing earth and heaven to ghosts, and will not hear,
And will not hear man groan chained to the sodden ground,
Rotting alive; in feather beds they slumbered sound.
The Grave-Tree
© Bliss William Carman
LET me have a scarlet maple
For the grave-tree at my head,
With the quiet sun behind it,
In the years when I am dead.
The Lover's Fate
© James Thomson
Hard is the fate of him who loves,
Yet dares not tell his trembling pain,
But to the sympathetic groves,
But to the lonely listening plain.
The Tree
© Sara Teasdale
OH to be free of myself,
With nothing left to remember,
To have my heart as bare
As a tree in December;
The Two Prayers
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
And new alarm I found did some sharp cry
Come from the street, or did a foot pass by
Swift in its going. All did threaten him.
Hear me, O Lord, who sip at sorrow's brim.
Take thou these eyes, these ears, this strength, this breath.
All that he hath not, who hath tasted death."
Mogg Megone - Part III.
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Ah! weary Priest! - with pale hands pressed
On thy throbbing brow of pain,
