Future poems
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Astraea: The Balance Of Illusions
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Dear to his age were memories such as these,
Leaves of his June in life's autumnal breeze;
Such were the tales that won my boyish ear,
Told in low tones that evening loves to hear.
The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son
© George Meredith
Thy knowledge of women might be surpassed:
As any sad dog's of sweet flesh when he quits
The wayside wandering bone!
No revilings of comrades as ingrates: thee
The tempter, misleader, and criminal (screened
By laws yet barbarous) own.
Shelley's Centenary
© William Watson
Within a narrow span of time,
Three princes of the realm of rhyme,
At height of youth or manhood's prime,
From earth took wing,
To join the fellowship sublime
Who, dead, yet sing.
On A Plant Of Virgin's-Bower, Designed To Cover A Garden-seat
© William Cowper
Thrive, gentle plant! and weave a bower
For Mary and for me,
And deck with many a splendid flower
Thy foliage large and free.
Independence
© Charles Churchill
Happy the bard (though few such bards we find)
Who, 'bove controlment, dares to speak his mind;
Pytheas
© Henry Kendall
Gaul whose keel in far, dim ages ploughed wan widths of polar sea
Gray old sailor of Massilia, who hath woven wreath for thee?
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;
Satyr VIII. The Picture Of Time
© Thomas Parnell
Methinkes the picture thus instructs my mind
Our hours are fleeting & the last assignd
Soon will it Come too soon alas for most
& all the time we use not well is lost
Light
© George MacDonald
Dull horrid pools no motion making!
No bubble on the surface breaking!
The dead air lies, without a sound,
Heavy and moveless on the marshy ground.
To Linnie
© Abraham Lincoln
A sweet plaintive song did I hear,
And I fancied that she was the singer
May emotions as pure, as that song set a-stir
Be the worst that the future shall bring her.
Freedom In Brazil
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WITH clearer light, Cross of the South, shine forth
In blue Brazilian skies;
And thou, O river, cleaving half the earth
From sunset to sunrise,
On the Death of a Young Friend, of Fever, at Laguira
© Alaric Alexander Watts
By foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed;
By foreign hands thy decent limbs composed;
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorned;
By strangers honoured, and by strangers mourned. ~ POPE.
A Castaway
© Augusta Davies Webster
So long since:
and now it seems a jest to talk of me
as if I could be one with her, of me
who am…… me.
The Republic
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
The Meadow
© Archibald Lampman
Here when the cloudless April days begin,
And the quaint crows flock thicker day by day,
From Anacreon
© George Gordon Byron
I wish to tune my quivering lyre
To deed of fame and notes of fire;
To echo, from its rising swell,
How heroes fought and nations fell,
