Fear poems

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Song (Sylvia The Fair, In The Bloom Of Fifteen)

© John Dryden

Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen,
Felt an innocent warmth as she lay on the green:
She had heard of a pleasure, and something she guessed
By the towsing and tumbling and touching her breast:

An Ode, On The Death Of Mr. Henry Purcell

© John Dryden

Late Servant to his Majesty, and
Organist of the Chapel Royal, and
of St. Peter's Westminster

Dar'st thou, poor worm, offend Infinity?
And must the terms of peace be given by thee?
Then thou art justice in the last appeal;
Thy easy God instructs thee to rebel:
And, like a king remote, and weak, must take
What satisfaction thou art pleas'd to make.

Absalom And Achitophel

© John Dryden

Him staggering so when Hell's dire agent found,
While fainting virtue scarce maintain'd her ground,
He pours fresh forces in, and thus replies:

Mac Flecknoe

© John Dryden

All human things are subject to decay,
And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey:
This Flecknoe found, who, like Augustus, young
Was call'd to empire, and had govern'd long:

Pardoned Out

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Im pardoned out. Again the stars
Shine on me with their myriad eyes.
So long Ive peered twixt iron bars,
Im awed by this expanse of skies.

Daft

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

In the warm yellow smile of the morning,
She stands at the lattice pane,
And watches the strong young binders
Stride down to the fields of grain.

Bohemia

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Bohemia, o'er thy unatlassed borders
How many cross, with half-reluctant feet,
And unformed fears of dangers and disorders,
To find delights, more wholesome and more sweet
Than ever yet were known to the "elite."

Ad Finum

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

On the white throat of useless passion
That scorched my soul with its burning breath
I clutched my fingers in murderous fashion
And gathered them close in a grip of death;

Custer

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

BOOK FIRST.I.ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy.
Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy
To sing of deeds as dauntless and as brave
As e'er lent luster to a warrior's grave.

Christ Crucified

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Then next I heard the roar of mills; and moving through the noise,
Like phantoms in an underworld, were little girls and boys.
Their backs were bent, their brows were pale, their eyes were sad and old;
But by the labour of their hands greed added gold to gold.
Again the Presence and the Voice: Behold the crimes I see,
As ye have done it unto these, so have ye done to me.

Answered

There, now, you are white with anger.
I knew it would be so.
You should not question a man too close
When he tells you he must go.

Love's Language

How does Love speak?
In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek,
And in the pallor that succeeds it; by
The quivering lid of an averted eye
The smile that proves the parent to a sigh
Thus doth Love speak.

Begin The Day

Begin each morning with a talk to God,
And ask for your divine inheritance
Of usefulness, contentment, and success.
Resign all fear, all doubt, and all despair.

Art And Love

For many long uninterrupted years
She was the friend and confidant of Art;
They walked together, heart communed with heart
In that sweet comradeship that so endears.

Christmas Fancies

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,
We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago.
And etched on vacant places,
Are half forgotten faces
Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow.