Fear poems
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Sonnet XLVII: Broken Music
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The mother will not turn, who thinks she hears
Her nursling's speech first grow articulate;
Wild Grapes
© Robert Frost
What tree may not the fig be gathered from?
The grape may not be gathered from the birch?
It's all you know the grape, or know the birch.
As a girl gathered from the birch myself
I Will Sing You One-O
© Robert Frost
It was long I lay
Awake that night
Wishing that night
Would name the hour
Don Diego Of The South
© Francis Bret Harte
Good!--said the Padre,--believe me still,
"Don Giovanni," or what you will,
The type's eternal! We knew him here
As Don Diego del Sud. I fear
The story's no new one! Will you hear?
The Void
© Charles Baudelaire
Pascal had his Void that went with him day and night.
- Alas! Its all Abyss, - action, longing, dream,
the Word! And I feel Panics storm-wind stream
through my hair, and make it stand upright.
The Fear
© Robert Frost
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
Two Look at Two
© Robert Frost
Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
Eavesdropping
© Katharine Lee Bates
THOUGH the winds but stir on their hoary thrones
Of hemlock and pungent pine,
Christmas Trees
© Robert Frost
(A Christmas Circular Letter)
THE CITY had withdrawn into itself
And left at last the country to the country;
When between whirls of snow not come to lie
The Ingrate
© John Crowe Ransom
BY night we looked across my field,
The tasseled corn was fine to see,
1866 -- Addressed To The Old Year
© Henry Timrod
Art thou not glad to close
Thy wearied eyes, O saddest child of Time,
Eyes which have looked on every mortal crime,
And swept the piteous round of mortal woes?
The Struggle
© Hristo Botev
In sorrow youth passes, in sorrows and pains,
Angrily boils the blood in the veins;
Lowering brows - the mind cannot see,
Is it good or evil that is to be.
To A Derelict
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O travelled far beyond unhappiness
Into a dreadful peace!
Why tarriest thou here? The street is bright
With noon; the music of the tidal sound
The Silence
© Emile Verhaeren
Ever since ending of the summer weather.
When last the thunder and the lightning broke,
Shatt'ring themselves upon it at one stroke,
The Silence has not stirred, there in the heather.
The Borough. Letter XXII: Peter Grimes
© George Crabbe
Now lived the youth in freedom, but debarr'd
From constant pleasure, and he thought it hard;
Hard that he could not every wish obey,
But must awhile relinquish ale and play;
Hard! that he could not to his cards attend,
But must acquire the money he would spend.
Home Burial
© Robert Frost
He saw her from the bottom of the stairs
Before she saw him. She was starting down,
Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.
She took a doubtful step and then undid it
Into My Own
© Robert Frost
One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto th eedge of doom.
Laughter And Death
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THERE is no laughter in the natural world
Of beast or fish or bird, though no sad doubt
Monody On The Death Of Chatterton
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Thee, Chatterton! yon unblest stones protect
From want, and the bleak freezings of neglect!
Escaped the sore wounds of affliction's rod,
Meek at the throne of mercy, and of God,
Perchance, thou raisest high th' enraptured hymn
Amid the blaze of seraphin!
The Dead Child And The Mocking-Bird
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ONCE in a land of balm and flowers,
Of rich fruit-laden trees,
Where the wild wreaths from jasmine bowers
Trail o'er Floridian seas;
