Fear poems
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The Birth Of Flattery
© George Crabbe
Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing
The passions all, their bearings and their ties;
Our First War-Christmas
© Katharine Lee Bates
HARD to wait for the postman's tramp
Up the snowy walk, for the hand that gropes
The Wind Of Winter
© Madison Julius Cawein
The Winter Wind, the wind of death,
Who knocked upon my door,
Now through the keyhole entereth,
Invisible and hoar:
He breathes around his icy breath
And treads the flickering floor.
The River Path
© John Greenleaf Whittier
No bird-song floated down the hill,
The tangled bank below was still;
The Lucayan's Song
© Amelia Opie
Hail, lonely shore! hail, desert cave!
To you, o'erjoyed, from men I fly,
And here I'll make my early grave….
For what can misery do but die?
A Letter From Peking
© Harriet Monroe
October I5th, 1910.
My friend, dear friend, why should I hear your voice
The Siege Of Corinth
© George Gordon Byron
XXVII.
Still the old man stood erect,
And Alp's career a moment check'd.
"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
For thine own, thy daughter's sake."
Alice And Una. A Tale Of Ceim-An-Eich
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
With a sigh for what is fading, but, O Earth! with no upbraiding,
For we feel that time is braiding newer, fresher flowers for thee,
We will speak, despite our grieving, words of loving and believing,
Tales we vowed when we were leaving awful Ceim-an-eich,
Where the sever'd rocks resemble fragments of a frozen sea,
And the wild deer flee!
Second Sunday In Lent
© John Keble
"And is there in God's world so drear a place
Where the loud bitter cry is raised in vain?
Where tears of penance come too late for grace,
As on the uprooted flower the genial rain?"
On Being Twenty-six
© Philip Larkin
I feared these present years,
The middle twenties,
When deftness disappears,
And each event is
Freighted with a source-encrusting doubt,
And turned to drought.
Biography
© John Masefield
Yet when I am dust my penman may not know
Those water-trampling ships which made me glow,
But think my wonder mad and fail to find,
Their glory, even dimly, from my mind,
And yet they made me:
Lebid
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Gone are they the lost camps, light flittings, long sojournings
in Miná, in Gháula, Rijám left how desolate.
Lost are they. Rayyán lies lorn with its white torrent beds,
scored in lines like writings left by the flood--water.
The Land Of Hearts Made Whole
© Madison Julius Cawein
Do you know the way that goes
Over fields of rue and rose,--
Warm of scent and hot of hue,
Roofed with heaven's bluest blue,--
To the Vale of Dreams Come True?
The Two Children Pt. II
© Emily Jane Brontë
Child of Delight! with sunbright hair
And seablue, sea-deep eyes;
Spirit of Bliss, what brings thee here,
Beneath these sullen skies?
The Aziola
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
'Do you not hear the Aziola cry?
Methinks she must be nigh,'
Said Mary, as we sate
Out Of Pompeii
© William Wilfred Campbell
She lay, face downward, on her beaded arm,
In this her new, sweet dream of human bliss,
Her heart within her fearful, fluttering, warm,
Her lips yet pained with love's first timorous kiss.
