Fear poems

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King Arthur's Tomb

© William Morris

Hot August noon: already on that day
Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad
Of mouth and eye, he had gone leagues of way;
Ay and by night, till whether good or bad

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In Arthur's House

© William Morris

"As quoth the lion to the mouse,"
The man said; "in King Arthur's House
Men are not names of men alone,
But coffers rather of deeds done."

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Earth the Healer, Earth the Keeper

© William Morris

So swift the hours are moving
Unto the time unproved:
Farewell my love unloving,
Farewell my love beloved!

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Atalanta's Race

© William Morris

Through such fair things unto the gates he came,
And found them open, as though peace were there;
Wherethrough, unquestioned of his race or name,
He entered, and along the streets 'gan fare,
Which at the first of folk were well-nigh bare;
But pressing on, and going more hastily,

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The White Cliffs

© Alice Duer Miller

Yet I have loathed those voices when the sense
Of what they said seemed to me insolence,
As if the dominance of the whole nation
Lay in that clear correct enunciation.

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The Puritan's Ballad

© Elinor Wylie

My love came up from Barnegat,
The sea was in his eyes;
He trod as softly as a cat
And told me terrible lies.

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The Lost Path

© Elinor Wylie

Or will my clamorous knocking shake the trees
With lonely thunder through the stillnesses,
And then lie down--the coldest fear of all--
To nothing, and deliberate silence fall
On the house deep in the silence, and no one come
To door or window, staring blind and dumb?

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The Child on the Curbstone

© Elinor Wylie

The headlights raced; the moon, death-faced,
Stared down on that golden river.
I saw through the smoke the scarlet cloak
Of a boy who could not shiver.

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Now let no charitable hope

© Elinor Wylie

Now let no charitable hope
Confuse my mind with images
Of eagle and of antelope:
I am by nature none of these.

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Death and the Maiden

© Elinor Wylie


Fair youth with the rose at your lips,
A riddle is hid in your eyes;
Discard conversational quips,
Give over elaborate disguise.

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A Crowded Trolley-Car

© Elinor Wylie

The rain's cold grains are silver-gray
Sharp as golden sands,
A bell is clanging, people sway
Hanging by their hands.

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Oysters

© Jonathan Swift

Charming oysters I cry:
My masters, come buy,
So plump and so fresh,
So sweet is their flesh,

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Verses on the Death of Doctor Swift

© Jonathan Swift

As Rochefoucauld his maxims drew
From nature, I believe 'em true:
They argue no corrupted mind
In him; the fault is in mankind.

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A Description of a City Shower

© Jonathan Swift

Careful Observers may fortel the Hour
(By sure Prognosticks) when to dread a Show'r:
While Rain depends, the pensive Cat gives o'er
Her Frolicks, and pursues her Tail no more.

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A Beautiful Young Nymph Going To Bed

© Jonathan Swift

Corinna, Pride of Drury-Lane,
For whom no Shepherd sighs in vain;
Never did Covent Garden boast
So bright a batter'd, strolling Toast;

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The Pangolin

© Marianne Clarke Moore

Another armored animal--scale
lapping scale with spruce-cone regularity until they
form the uninterrupted central
tail-row! This near artichoke with head and legs and grit-equipped

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The Height of Land

© Duncan Campbell Scott

Here is the height of land:
The watershed on either hand
Goes down to Hudson Bay
Or Lake Superior;

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Withstanders

© William Barnes

When weakness now do strive wi' might

  In struggles ov an e'thly trial,

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The Half-breed Girl

© Duncan Campbell Scott

She is free of the trap and the paddle,
The portage and the trail,
But something behind her savage life
Shines like a fragile veil.

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Ode for the Keats Centenary

© Duncan Campbell Scott

Where, searching through the ferny breaks,
The moose-fawns find the springs;
Where the loon laughs and diving takes
Her young beneath her wings;