Fear poems
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Influence of Natural Objects in Calling Forth and Strengthening the Imagination in Boyhood and Early Youth
© William Wordsworth
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought!And giv'st to forms and images a breathAnd everlasting motion! not in vain,By day or star-light, thus from my first dawnOf childhood didst thou intertwine for meThe passions that build up our human soul;Not with the mean and vulgar works of Man;But with high objects, with enduring things,With life and nature; purifying thusThe elements of feeling and of thought,And sanctifying by such disciplineBoth pain and fear,--until we recogniseA grandeur in the beatings of the heart
Elegiac Stanzas Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm, Painted by Sir George Beaumont
© William Wordsworth
I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:I saw thee every day; and all the whileThy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea.
Will and Testament
© Isabella Whitney
The Aucthour (though loth to leave the Citie)vpon her Friendes procurement, is constrainedto departe: wherfore (she fayneth as she would die)and maketh her WYLL and Testæment, as foloweth:With large Legacies of such Goods and richeswhich she moste aboundantly hath left behind her:and therof maketh LONDON sole executor to seher Legacies performed
To her Sister Mistress A. B.
© Isabella Whitney
Because I to my brethern wrote and to my sisters two:Good sister Anne, you this might wote, if so I should not doTo you, or ere I parted hence,You vainly had bestowed expence.
An Order Prescribed, by Is. W., to two of her Younger Sisters Serving in London
© Isabella Whitney
Good sisters mine, when I shall further from you dwell,Peruse these lines, observe the rules which in the same I tell
America
© Whitfield James Monroe
America , it is to thee,Thou boasted land of liberty, --It is to thee I raise my song,Thou land of blood, and crime, and wrong
Oh Mother of a Mighty Race
© William Cullen Bryant
OH mother of a mighty race
Yet lovely in thy youthful grace!
The elder dames thy haughty peers
Admire and hate thy blooming years.
With words of shame 5
And taunts of scorn they join thy name.
Market day
© Webb Mary
Who'll walk the fields with us to town,In an old coat and a faded gown?We take our roots and country sweetsWhere high walls shade the steep old streets,And golden bells and silver chimesRing up and down the sleepy times
Aunt Chloe
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
1.1I remember, well remember,1.2 That dark and dreadful day,1.3When they whispered to me, "Chloe,1.4 Your children's sold away!"
The Study of a Spider
© Warren John Byrne Leicester
From holy flower to holy flowerThou weavest thine unhallowed bower
Albion's England
© William Warner
The Brutons thus departed hence, seven kingdoms here begun,--Where diversely in divers broils the Saxons lost and won,--King Edel and king Adelbright in Diria jointly reign;In loyal concord during life these kingly friends remain
St. Augustine and Monica
© Turner Charles (Tennyson)
When Monica's young son had felt her kiss --Her weeping kiss -- for years, her sorrow flowedAt last into his wilful blood; he owedTo her his after-life of truth and bliss:And her own joy, what words, what thoughts could paint!When o'er his soul, with sweet constraining force,Came Penitence -- a fusion from remorse --And made her boy a glorious Christian saint
The Mute Lovers On the Railway Journey
© Turner Charles (Tennyson)
They bade farwell; but neither spoke of love
Sonnets. Part II, XXX
© Frederick Goddard Tuckerman
Yet , even mid merry boyhood's tricks and scapes,Early my heart a deeper lesson learnt;Wandering alone by many a mile of burntBlack woodside, that but the snow-flake decks and drapes
A Poem, Addressed to the Lord Privy Seal, on the Prospect of Peace
© Thomas Tickell
To The Lord Privy SealContending kings, and fields of death, too long,Have been the subject of the British song
Ballade Made for his Mother that She mighte Praye toe our Ladye
© Thorley Wilfred Charles
Ladye of heaven that o'er earth hath swaye And of Hell's marshes art most Royal Reeve,Grant toe thy humble Christian that doth praye
The City of Dreadful Night
© James Thomson
As I came through the desert thus it was,As I came through the desert: All was black,In heaven no single star, on earth no track;A brooding hush without a stir or note,The air so thick it clotted in my throat;And thus for hours; then some enormous thingsSwooped past with savage cries and clanking wings: But I strode on austere; No hope could have no fear
The Seasons: Summer
© James Thomson
From brightening fields of ether fair-disclos'd,Child of the sun, refulgent Summer comes,In pride of youth, and felt through nature's depth:He comes, attended by the sultry HoursAnd ever-fanning Breezes, on his way;While, from his ardent look, the turning SpringAverts her blushful face; and earth and skies,All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves
