Fear poems
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The Despairing Shepherd
© Matthew Prior
Alexis shun'd his Fellow Swains,
Their rural Sports, and jocund Strains:
So Cruel Prison
© Henry Howard
So cruel prison how could betide, alas,
As proud Windsor? Where I in lust and joy
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I
© Caroline Norton
So, till the day when over Dinan's walls
The Autumn sunshine of my story falls;
And the guests bidden, gather for the chase,
And the smile brightens on the lovely face
That greets them in succession as they come
Into that high and hospitable home.
The Faun's Sweetheart
© Margaret Widdemer
We met by the Wood of Doom,
Day gone and the dusk come after . . .
On A Symphony Of Beethoven
© Frances Anne Kemble
Terrible music, whose strange utterance
Seemed like the spell of some dread conscious trance;
Elegy, Written In The Year 1758
© James Beattie
Still, shall unthinking man substantial deem
The forms that fleet through life's deceitful dream?
On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays,
Shall heedless Hope the towering fabric raise?
Living Without God In The World
© Charles Lamb
Mystery of God! thou brave & beauteous world!
Made fair with light, & shade, & stars, & flowers;
Al Aaraaf: Part 1
© Edgar Allan Poe
PART I
O! nothing earthly save the ray
(Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye,
As in those gardens where the day
The Fishermen
© Emile Verhaeren
The spot is flaked with mist, that fills,
Thickening into rolls more dank,
The thresholds and the window-sills,
And smokes on every bank.
The Size
© George Herbert
Content thee, greedie heart.
Modest and moderate joyes to those, that have
Title to more hereafter when they part,
Are passing brave.
Let th' upper springs into the low
Descend and fall, and thou dost flow.
The Cloud Messenger - Part 02
© Kalidasa
Your naturally beautiful reflection will gain entry into the clear waters of the
Gambhira River, as into a clear mind. Therefore it is not fitting that you, out
of obstinancy, should render futile her glances which are the darting leaps of
little fish, as white as night-lotus flowers.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XLIV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
We came at last, alas! I see it yet,
With its open windows on the upper floor,
To a certain house still stirring, with lights set,
And just a chink left open of the door.
New Morality
© George Canning
But say,-indignant does the Muse retire,
Her shrine deserted, and extinct its fire?
No pious hand to feed the sacred flame,
No raptured soul a Poet's charge to claim.
A Song Of Impossibilities
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
LADY, I loved you all last year,
How honestly and well --
Music's Duel
© Richard Crashaw
Now westward Sol had spent the richest beams
Of noon's high glory, when, hard by the streams
Ulster 1912
© Rudyard Kipling
"Their webs shall not become garments, neither shall they cover themselves with their works: their works are works of inquity and the act of violence is in their hands." - Isaiah lix. 6.
My Chinee Cook.
© James Brunton Stephens
THEY who say the bush is dull are not so very far astray,
For this eucalyptic cloisterdom is anything but gay;
Midsummer Vigil
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Night smiles on me with her stars,
Mystic, pure, enchanted, lone.
Light, that only heaven discloses,
Is in heaven that no cloud mars;
Here, through murmuring darkness blown,
Comes the scent of unseen roses.
Pen-Y-GWRYDD: To Tom Hughes, Esq.,
© Charles Kingsley
There is no inn in Snowdon which is not awful dear,
Excepting Pen-y-gwrydd (you can't pronounce it, dear),
