Future poems
/ page 42 of 121 /Hyperion
© Stefan Anton George
I journeyed home: such flood of blossoms never
Had welcomed me… a throbbing in the field
English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire
© George Gordon Byron
These are the themes that claim our plaudits now;
These are the bards to whom the muse must bow;
While Milton, Dryden, Pope, alike forgot,
Resign their hallow'd bays to Walter Scott.
This Southern Land of Ours
© Charles Harpur
With alien hearts to frame our laws
And cheat us as of old,
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 03 - part 04
© Torquato Tasso
XLVI
Three times he strove to view Heaven's golden ray,
As A Strong Bird On Pinious Free
© Walt Whitman
. As a strong bird on pinions free,
Joyous, the amplest spaces heavenward cleaving,
Such be the thought I'd think to-day of thee, America,
Such be the recitative I'd bring to-day for thee.
My Lady's Grave
© Emily Jane Brontë
THE linnet in the rocky dells,
The moor-lark in the air,
The bee among the heather bells
That hide my lady fair:
Andrew Rykmans Prayer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Andrew Rykman's dead and gone;
You can see his leaning slate
In the graveyard, and thereon
Read his name and date.
To An Infant
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
To anger rapid and as soon appeased,
For trifles mourning and by trifles pleased;
Break friendship's mirror with a tetchy blow,
Yet snatch what coals of fire on pleasure's altar glow!
Poem For The Two Hundred And Fiftieth Anniversary Of The Founding Of Harvard College
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Thou whose bold flight would leave earth's vulgar crowds,
And like the eagle soar above the clouds,
Must feel the pang that fallen angels know
When the red lightning strikes thee from below!
Extreme Unction
© James Russell Lowell
Go! leave me, Priest; my soul would be
Alone with the consoler, Death;
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - November
© George MacDonald
1.
THOU art of this world, Christ. Thou know'st it all;
Tale X
© George Crabbe
It is the Soul that sees: the outward eyes
Present the object, but the Mind descries;
And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff'rence
That Great Waiting Silence
© Henry Lawson
WHERE shall we go for prophecy? Where shall we go for proof?
The holiday street is crowded, pavement, window and roof;
Band and banner pass by us, and the old tunes rise and fall
But that great waiting silence is on the people all!
Songs of the Pixies
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
Whom the untaught Shepherds call
Pixies in their madrigal,
Fancy's children, here we dwell:
James And The Shoulder Of Mutton
© Ann Taylor
YOUNG Jem at noon return'd from school,
As hungry as could be,
He cried to Sue, the servant-maid,
"My dinner give to me. "
In Memoriam A. H. H.
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.