Freedom poems
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For my own Monument
© Matthew Prior
AS doctors give physic by way of prevention,
Mat, alive and in health, of his tombstone took care;
For delays are unsafe, and his pious intention
May haply be never fulfill'd by his heir.
Sonnet X "Were I the Poet-Laureate of the Fairies"
© Henry Timrod
(Written on a very small sheet of note-paper)
On The Report Of A Monument To Be Erected In Westminster Abbey, To The Memory Of A Late Author (Chur
© James Beattie
Bufo, begone! with thee may Faction's fire,
That hatch'd thy salamander-fame, expire.
Fame, dirty idol of the brainless crowd,
What half-made moon-calf can mistake for good!
Athens: An Ode
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
ERE from under earth again like fire the violet kindle, [Str. I.
Ere the holy buds and hoar on olive-branches bloom,
Gertrude of Wyoming
© Thomas Campbell
PART IOn Susquehanna's side, fair Wyoming!
Although the wild-flower on thy ruin'd wall,
And roofless homes, a sad remembrance bring,
Of what thy gentle people did befall;
Freedom And Love
© Thomas Campbell
How delicious is the winning
Of a kiss at love's beginning,
When two mutual hearts are sighing
For the knot there's no untying!
Alfred. Book IV.
© Henry James Pye
"I come," the stranger said, "from fields of fame,
A Saxon born, and Aribert my name.
I come from Devon's shores, where Devon's lord
Waves o'er the prostrate Dane the British sword.
Freedom might yet revisit Britain's coast,
Did Alfred live to lead her victor host."
The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
Our Orders
© Julia Ward Howe
WEAVE no more silks, ye Lyons looms,
To deck our girls for gay delights!
The crimson flower of battle blooms,
And solemn marches fill the night.
from "Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika"
© Cornelis Jacobus Langenhoven
Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika
Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo,
Yizwa imithandazo yethu,
Nkosi sikelela, thina lusapho lwayo.
(Xhosa and Zulu)
The 9th Satire Of Book I. Of Horace : The Description Of An Impertinent. Adapted To The Present Time
© William Cowper
Sauntering along the street one day,
On trifles musing by the way,
493. SongContented wi little, and cantie wi mair
© Robert Burns
CONTENTED wi little, and cantie wi mair,
Wheneer I forgather wi Sorrow and Care,
I gie them a skelp as theyre creeping alang,
Wi a cog o gude swats and an auld Scottish sang.
Chorus.Contented wi little, &c.
193. On Scaring some Water-Fowl in Lock Turit
© Robert Burns
WHY, ye tenants of the lake,
For me your watry haunt forsake?
Tell me, fellow-creatures, why
At my presence thus you fly?
Ode IV: To The Honourable Charles Townshend In The Country
© Mark Akenside
I. 1.
How oft shall i survey
The Beauteous Terrorist
© Sir Henry Parkes
Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.
291. SongThe Captive Ribband
© Robert Burns
DEAR Myra, the captive ribbands mine,
Twas all my faithful love could gain;
And would you ask me to resign
The sole reward that crowns my pain?
327. On Glenriddells Fox breaking his chain: A Fragment
© Robert Burns
These things premised, I sing a Fox,
Was caught among his native rocks,
And to a dirty kennel chained,
How he his liberty regained.
177. Elegy on the Death of Sir James Hunter Blair
© Robert Burns
THE LAMP of day, with-ill presaging glare,
Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the western wave;
Th inconstant blast howld thro the darkning air,
And hollow whistled in the rocky cave.
