Good poems
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The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto VI.
© Sir Walter Scott
XI
Albert Graeme.
It was an English ladye bright,
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,)
And she would marry a Scottish knight,
For Love will still be lord of all.
Paradise Lost : Book VII.
© John Milton
Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name
If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine
Greeting Poem
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There was a sound in the wind to-day,
Like a joyous cymbal ringing!
The Bowge of Courte
© John Skelton
In Autumpne whan the sonne in vyrgyne
By radyante hete enryped hath our corne
Niggers Leap, New England
© Judith Wright
Did we not know their blood channelled our rivers,
and the black dust our crops ate was their dust?
O all men are one man at last. We should have known
the night that tidied up the cliffs and hid them
had the same question on its tongue for us.
And there they lie that were ourselves writ strange.
A Summer Night
© Matthew Arnold
A world above man's head, to let him see
How boundless might his soul's horizons be,
How vast, yet of what clear transparency!
How it were good to live there, and breathe free;
How fair a lot to fill
Is left to each man still!
Beauty And The Beast
© Charles Lamb
"My Lord, I swear upon my knees,
"I did not mean to harm your trees;
"But a lov'd Daughter, fair as spring,
"Intreated me a Rose to bring;
"O didst thou know, my lord, the Maid!"-
Saint Romualdo
© Emma Lazarus
I give God thanks that I, a lean old man,
Wrinkled, infirm, and crippled with keen pains
On The Death Of Mrs. Elizabeth Filmer. An Elegiacall Epitaph
© Richard Lovelace
You that shall live awhile, before
Old time tyrs, and is no more:
When that this ambitious stone
Stoopes low as what it tramples on:
My Highland Lassie, O
© Robert Burns
Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
Yon palace and yon gardens fine!
The world then the love should know
I bear my Highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen…
The Banks Of Wye - Book II
© Robert Bloomfield
Return, my Llewellyn, the glory
That heroes may gain o'er the sea,
Though nations may feel
Their invincible steel,
By falsehood is tarnish'd in story;
Why tarry, Llewellyn, from me?
The Mother Of A Poet
© Sara Teasdale
She is too kind, I think, for mortal things,
Too gentle for the gusty ways of earth;
God gave to her a shy and silver mirth,
And made her soul as clear
Bishop Orders His Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church, Rome, The
© Robert Browning
Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity!
Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back?
The Lay Of Christine
© William Morris
TRANSLATED FROM THE ICELANDIC.
Of silk my gear was shapen,
Scarlet they did on me,
Then to the sea-strand was I borne
And laid in a bark of the sea.
O well were I from the World away.
Habeas Corpus
© Helen Hunt Jackson
* (Unfinished here.)
Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;
I shall be free when thou art through.
Take all there is - take hand and heart;
There must be somewhere work to do.
Amics Bernart de Ventadorn
© Bernard de Ventadorn
Bernartz, foudatz vos amena,
car aissi vos partetz d'amor,
per cui a om pretz e valor.
The Slave Ships
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"ALL ready?" cried the captain;
"Ay, ay!" the seamen said;
"Heave up the worthless lubbers,
The dying and the dead."
His Bit
© Katharine Lee Bates
GALLANTLY swung the old carpenter up to his door,
Drums and fifes in his tread,
