Fear poems
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The Ghost That Jim Saw
© Francis Bret Harte
Why, as to that, said the engineer,
Ghosts ain't things we are apt to fear;
St. Michael And All Angels
© John Keble
Ye stars that round the Sun of righteousness
In glorious order roll,
At Pompeii
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
At Pompeii I heard a woman laugh,
And turned to find the reason of her mirth;
Clare's Dragoons
© Thomas Osborne Davis
_Viva la_, for Ireland's wrong!
_Viva la_, for Ireland's right!
_Viva la_, in battle throng,
For a Spanish steed, and sabre bright!
Youth's Inexperience.
© Robert Crawford
He is too young yet to know life's demands;
Being no natural philosopher,
He must from cause and custom draw that art
Which some of Nature have, the primal gift
The Disciple
© Jones Very
Thou wilt my hands employ, though others find
No work for those who praise thy name aright;
Raising The Dead
© John Kenyon
We all have heard, and marvelled as we heard,
Of seers, who have raised the Dead from out their tombs,
Idyll XV. The Festival of Adonis
© Theocritus
PRAXINOAe.
Yes, Gorgo dear! At last!
That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair,
A cushion, Eunoae!
The Freed Islands
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A FEW brief years have passed away
Since Britain drove her million slaves
Beneath the tropic's fiery ray:
God willed their freedom; and to-day
Ignis Fatuus
© Allen Tate
In the twilight of my audacity
I saw you flee the world, the burnt highways
Of summer gave up their light: I
Followed you with the uncommon span
Of fear-supported and disbursed eyes.
Lillie of the Snowstorm
© Henry Clay Work
To his home, his once white, once lov'd cottage,
Late at night, a poor inebriate came;
The Valley Of Baca
© Emma Lazarus
A brackish lake is there with bitter pools
Anigh its margin, brushed by heavy trees.
A piping wind the narrow valley cools,
Fretting the willows and the cypresses.
Gray skies above, and in the gloomy space
An awful presence hath its dwelling-place.
The Beginning
© Jean Ingelow
Such as can see,
Why should they doubt? The childhood of a race.
The childhood of a soul, hath neither doubt
Nor fear. Where all is super-natural
The guileless heart doth feed on it, no more
Afraid than angels are of heaven.
A Dream Of Bric-A-Brac
© John Hay
I dreamed I was in fair Niphon.
Amid tea-fields I journeyed on,
Reclined in my jinrikishaw;
Across the rolling plains I saw
The lordly Fusi-yama rise,
His blue cone lost in bluer skies.
To My Daughter
© Victor Marie Hugo
My child! thou seest me content to lead
A lonely life. Do thou, in imitation,
Not happy, nor triumphant, learn the need
Of resignation.
Fears Of Love
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Love grasps my heart in a net
Like the strong roots of a flower;
So surely his root is set
In my spirit, to hold me with power.
The Witch of Hebron
© Charles Harpur
Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare
Of Indian and Armenian workmanship
Which might have seemed a wonder of the world:
And trains of servitors of every clime,
Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians,
In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls.
