Fear poems
/ page 313 of 454 /The Basset-Table : An Eclogue
© Alexander Pope
Cardelia.
The Basset-Table spread, the Tallier come;
Why stays Smilinda in the Dressing-Room?
Rise, pensive Nymph, the Tallier waits for you:
The Combat. By Etty
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
THEY fled,--for there was for the brave
Left only a dishonour'd grave.
Aspirations
© Mathilde Blind
I.
I SAW thee in the streets, so wan and pale;
My heart, it shivered at the saddening sight;
Like a thin cloud thou wert, that though the sky doth sail,
And threatens to dissolve, each moment, on its flight.
A Poem To His Magesty, Presented To The Lord Keeper. To The Right Hon. Sir John Somers, Lord Keeper
© Joseph Addison
If yet your thoughts are loose from state affairs,
Nor feel the burden of a kingdom's cares;
The Days Of Our Youth
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
These are the days of our youth, our days of glory and honour.
Pleasure begotten of strength is ours, the sword in our hand.
Wisdom bends to our will, we lead captivity captive,
Kings of our lives and love, receiving gifts from men.
Spirit Whose Work Is Done
© Walt Whitman
SPIRIT whose work is done! spirit of dreadful hours!
Ere, departing, fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets;
Dives In Torment
© Robert Norwood
THIS was my failure, who thought that the feast
Rivalled the rapture of bird on the wing;
Rivalled the lily all robed like a priest;
Smoke of the pollen when Rose-censers swing.
'Broken Axletree'
© Henry Lawson
Oh, the pub at Devils Crossing! and the woman that he sent!
And the hell for which we bartered horse and trap and traps and tent!
And the black Since Thenthe chances that we never more may see
Ah! the two lives that were ruined for a broken axletree!
The Duellist - Book I
© Charles Churchill
The clock struck twelve; o'er half the globe
Darkness had spread her pitchy robe:
Lines To A Friend Visiting America
© George Meredith
Now farewell to you! you are
One of my dearest, whom I trust:
Now follow you the Western star,
And cast the old world off as dust.
The Australian Marseillaise
© Henry Lawson
We are marching on and onward
To the silver-streak of dawn,
To the dynasty of mankind
We are marching on.
The Borough. Letter X: Clubs And Social Meetings
© George Crabbe
Next is the Club, where to their friends in town
Our country neighbours once a month come down;
We term it Free-and-Easy, and yet we
Find it no easy matter to be free:
E'en in our small assembly, friends among,
Are minds perverse, there's something will be
He's Taken Out His Papers
© Edgar Albert Guest
He's taken out his papers, an' he's just like you an' me.
He's sworn to love the Stars and Stripes an' die for it, says he.
An' he's done with dukes an' princes, an' he's done with kings an' queens,
An' he's pledged himself to freedom, for he knows what freedom means.
The Highway To Fame
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
In every man this world doth hold
Two selves are cast in that human mould.
If he hearken but to the voice of one,
Then heaven is his when his work is done;
But if to the other his ear doth turn,
Despair in his heart shall for ever burn.
Grabschrift Marianae Gryphiae,
© Andreas Gryphius
Geboren in der Flucht, umringt mit Schwert und Brand,
Schier in dem Rauch erstickt, der Mutter herbes Pfand,
Rondel
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THESE many years since we began to be,
What have the gods done with us? what with me,
What with my love? they have shown me fates and fears,
Harsh springs, and fountains bitterer than the sea,
Grief a fixed star, and joy a vane that veers,
These many years.
The Wreck Of The Birkenhead,
© Frances Anne Kemble
As well as I am able, I'll relate how it befell,
And I trust, sirs, you'll excuse me, if I do not speak it well.
I've lived a hard and wandering life, serving our gracious Queen,
And have nigh forgot my schooling since a soldier I have been.
Psalm LXXXVI. (86)
© John Milton
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
Intaglio - Frank Denz
© Henry Kendall
Oh, women and men who have known the perils of weather and wave,
It is sad that my sweet ones are blown under sea without shelter of grave;
I sob like a child in the night, when the gale on the waters is loud
My darlings went down in my sight, with neither a coffin nor shroud.