Fear poems
/ page 88 of 454 /A Reading Of Life--With The Huntress
© George Meredith
Through the water-eye of night,
Midway between eve and dawn,
The Dead
© Leon Gellert
These there were, who lost their everything.
Gave all! And left the earth a vaster sphere
The Departure Of St. Patrick From Scotland
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Twice to your son already has the hand of God been shewn,
Restoring him from alien bonds to be once more your own,
And now it is the self--same hand, dear kinsmen, that to--day
Shall take me for the third time from all I love away.
A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter
© Henry Timrod
Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,
My own dead mother gazed upon my face,
As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,
I had not half her beauty and her grace.
The Merchant Ship
© Henry Kendall
The Sun oer the waters was throwing
In the freshness of morning its beams;
The Doves
© William Cowper
Reasoning at every step he treads,
Man yet mistakes his way,
While meaner things whom instinct leads
Are rarely known to stray.
After The Ball
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Silence now reigns in the corridors wide,
The stately rooms of that mansion of pride;
The music is hushed, the revellers gone,
The glittring ball-room deserted and lone,
Silence and gloom, like a clinging pall,
Oershadow the housetis after the ball.
The God Of The Wood
© Bliss William Carman
HERE all the forces of the wood
As one converge,
To make the soul of solitude
Where all things merge.
Come Back to the Farm!
© Henry Clay Work
'Tis the voice of your sister - she calls you,
In tones both of love and alarm!
"By dead mother's prayers - by father's gray hairs -
Dear brother, come back to the farm."
Tale XIV
© George Crabbe
dwell,
While he was acting (he would call it) well;
He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell;
There was no fraud, and he demanded cause
Why he was troubled when he kept the laws?"
"My laws!" said Conscience. "What," said he, "
Christmas
© Edith Nesbit
WITH garlands to grace it, with laughter to greet it,
Christmas is here, holly-red and snow-white,
Old Barnard -- A Monkish Tale
© Mary Darby Robinson
OLD BARNARD was still a lusty hind,
Though his age was full fourscore;
Daphles. An Argive Story
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
But the Queen's host by skilful champions led,
Its powers meanwhile concentred to a head,
Lay, an embattled force with wary eye,
Ready to ward or strike whene'er the cry
Of coming foemen on their ears should fall,
Nigh the huge towers which guard the capital.
Mother
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
If I should rise amidst the assembled dead,
Calling for thee, whose fond hands often led
Me in young years, in that far unknown place
To help me there, and could not find thy face !
From The Porch At Runnymede
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I stand above the city's rush and din,
And gaze far down with calm and undimmed eyes,
To where the misty smoke wreath grey and dim
Above the myriad roofs and spires rise;
The Sangreal
© George MacDonald
Through the wood the sunny day
Glimmered sweetly glad;
Through the wood his weary way
Rode sir Galahad.
Protogenes And Apelles
© Matthew Prior
She said; and to his hand restored
The rival pledge, the missive board.
Upon the happy line were laid
Such obvious light and easy shade,
That Paris' apple stood confest,
Or Leda's egg, or Cloe's breast.
The Golden Legend: Prologue & 1.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Lucifer._ HASTEN! hasten!
O ye spirits!
From its station drag the ponderous
Cross of iron, that to mock us
Is uplifted high in air!