Fear poems
/ page 75 of 454 /The Singing Of The Magnificat
© Edith Nesbit
IN midst of wide green pasture-lands, cut through
By lines of alders bordering deep-banked streams,
Where bulrushes and yellow iris grew,
And rest and peace, and all the flowers of dreams,
The Abbey stood--so still, it seemed a part
Of the marsh-country's almost pulseless heart.
The Test
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Now no man's loss is private: all share all.
Oh, each of us a soldier stands to--day,
Put to the proof and summoned to the call;
One will, one faith, one peril. Hearts, be high,
Most in the hour that's darkest! Come what may,
The soul in us is found, and shall not die.
Love and Honor
© William Shenstone
Sed neque Medorum silvae, ditissima terra
Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Haemus,
The Wood-Cutter
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
We came behind him by the wall,
My brethren drew their brands,
And they had strength to strike him down--
And I to bind his hands.
Traveller's Song
© George MacDonald
Bands of dark and bands of light
Lie athwart the homeward way;
Now we cross a belt of Night,
Now a strip of shining Day!
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XI - Sraddha - (Funeral Rites)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
From their royal brow and bosom gem and jewel cast aside,
Loose their robes and loose their tresses, quenched their haughty queenly
pride!
The Disciple
© George MacDonald
The times are changed, and gone the day
When the high heavenly land,
Though unbeheld, quite near them lay,
And men could understand.
"A Perfect Woman Nobly Planned"
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Ah, Myrtilla, woe and dear me!
Lackadaydee and alas!
What is this, I greatly fear me,
That has come to pass?
The Departed
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world with kings,
The powerful of the earth the wise the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. ~ BRYANT.
Are Ye Truly Free?
© James Russell Lowell
Men! whose boast it is that ye
Come of fathers brave and free;
A Brisbane Reverie.
© James Brunton Stephens
AS I sit beside my little study window, looking down
From the heights of contemplation (attic front) upon the town
An Ode
© Madison Julius Cawein
_In Commemoration of the Founding of the
Massachusetts Bay Colony in the Year 1623._
Come hither, child
© Emily Jane Brontë
Come hither, child-who gifted thee
With power to touch that string so well?
How darest thou rouse up thoughts in me,
Thoughts that I would-but cannot quell?
Metamorphoses: Book The Sixth
© Ovid
The End of the Sixth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
The Last Furrow
© Edwin Markham
THE SPIRIT OF EARTH with still, restoring hands,
Mid ruin moves, in glimmering chasm gropes,
The Graveyard By The Sea
© Paul Valéry
Sure treasure, simple shrine to intelligence,
Palpable calm, visible reticence,
Proud-lidded water, Eye wherein there wells
Under a film of fire such depth of sleep --
O silence! . . . Mansion in my soul, you slope
Of gold, roof of a myriad golden tiles.