Fear poems
/ page 317 of 454 /
Songs Set To Music: 19. Set By Mr. C. R.
© Matthew Prior
Phillis, give this humour over,
We too long have time abused;
I shall turn an errant rover
If the favour's still refused.
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Knowledge. Book I.
© Matthew Prior
But, O! ere yet original man was made,
Ere the foundations of this earth were laid,
It was opponent to our search ordain'd,
That joy still sought should never be attain'd:
This sad experience cites me to reveal,
And what I dictate is from what I feel.
Elegy: Walking the Line
© Edgar Bowers
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line,
The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum
Superb above the cabin, along the wall
Stones gathered from the level field nearby
A Wife Mourns For Her Husband
© Confucius
The dolichos grows and covers the thorn,
O'er the waste is the dragon-plant creeping.
The man of my heart is away and I mourn--
What home have I, lonely and weeping?
To Mr. Blanchard, the Celebrated Aeronaut in America
© Philip Morin Freneau
Nil mortalibus ardui est
Caelum ipsum petimus stultitia
Horace
On a Honey Bee
© Philip Morin Freneau
Thou born to sip the lake or spring,
Or quaff the waters of the stream,
Why hither come on vagrant wing?--
Does Bacchus tempting seem--
Did he, for you, the glass prepare?--
Will I admit you to a share?
A Thought or Two on Reading Pomfret's
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
I have been reading Pomfret's "Choice" this spring,
A pretty kind of--sort of--kind of thing,
Not much a verse, and poem none at all,
Yet, as they say, extremely natural.
Robin Hood's Flight
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
Robin Hood's mother, these twelve years now,
Has been gone from her earthly home;
And Robin has paid, he scarce knew how,
A sum for a noble tomb.
Robin Hood, A Child.
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
It was the pleasant season yet,
When the stones at cottage doors
Dry quickly, while the roads are wet,
After the silver showers.
Death Of Labour
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Methought a great wind swept across the earth,
And all the toilers perished. Then I saw
Scenes In London II - Oxford Street
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
LIFE in its many shapes was there,
The busy and the gay;
Faces that seemed too young and fair
To ever know decay.
Written A Year After The Events
© Charles Lamb
Alas! how am I chang'd! Where be the tears,
The sobs, and forc'd suspensions of the breath,
The Monks of St. Mark
© Thomas Love Peacock
'Tis midnight: the sky is with clouds overcast;
The forest-trees bend in the loud-rushing blast;
The rain strongly beats on these time-hallow'd spires;
The lightning pours swiftly its blue-pointed fires;
Triumphant the tempest-fiend rides in the dark,
And howls round the old abbey-walls of St. Mark!
The Happiest Girl in the World
© Augusta Davies Webster
A week ago; only a little week:
it seems so much much longer, though that day
is every morning still my yesterday;
as all my life 'twill be my yesterday,
for all my life is morrow to my love.
Oh fortunate morrow! Oh sweet happy love!
The Wanderer
© John Masefield
ALL day they loitered by the resting ships,
Telling their beauties over, taking stock;
At night the verdict left my messmate's lips,
"The Wanderer is the finest ship in dock."
The Everlasting Mercy
© John Masefield
Thy place is biggyd above the sterrys cleer,
Noon erthely paleys wrouhte in so statly wyse,
Com on my freend, my brothir moost enteer,
For the I offryd my blood in sacrifise.
John Lydgate.
Death In Life
© Madison Julius Cawein
Within my veins it beats
And burns within my brain;
For when the year is sad and sear
I dream the dream again.
No One Ever Comes
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
Eupatius said: "I am famous for my hospitality.
I am bored. My thoughts are disturbing me.
No one ever comes to this place."
