Good poems

 / page 218 of 545 /
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To Victor Hugo

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

  IN the fair days when God

  By man as godlike trod,

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Elegy Of Lincoln

© Joseph Furphy

Lincoln is gone — who ruled the Western Land
From the Pacific to the Atlantic's brim —
And cold and nerveless lies the mighty hand
That struck the fetters from the negro's limb.

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The Word Quick And Powerful

© John Newton

The word of Christ, our Lord,
With whom we have to do;
Is sharper than a two-edged sword,
To pierce the sinner through.

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I Stood Tip-Toe Upon A Little Hill

© John Keats

I stood tip-toe upon a little hill, 
The air was cooling, and so very still, 
That the sweet buds which with a modest pride 
Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside, 

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Quatrains Of Life

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

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The Torrent

© Mathilde Blind

OH torrent, roaring in thy giant fall,

  And thund'ring grandly o'er th' opposing blocks,

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A Letter From Italy

© Alfred Austin

I

Lately, when we wished good-bye

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Sonnet 37: My Mouth Doth Water

© Sir Philip Sidney

My mouth doth water, and my breast doth swell,
My tongue doth itch, my thoughts in labor be:
Listen then, lordings, with good ear to me,
For of my life I must a riddle tell.

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A Sea Song

© Jean Ingelow

Old Albion sat on a crag of late.

  And sang out--"Ahoy! ahoy!

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The Hares, A Fable.

© James Beattie

Mild was the morn, the sky serene,
The jolly hunting band convene,
The beagle's breast with ardour burns,
The bounding steed the champaign spurns,
And Fancy oft the game descries
Through the hound's nose, and huntsman's eyes.

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His Stenographer

© Harriet Monroe

Does she love you?—well, I wonder—
Married twenty years, they say!
You, so bald and fat and funny,
Grubbing like a mole for money?
Guess she likes to spend the plunder—
Gee—she knows the way!

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Ode II: On The Winter-Solstice

© Mark Akenside

I

The radiant ruler of the year

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The Dead Child

© Ernest Christopher Dowson

Sleep on, dear, now
  The last sleep and the best,
  And on thy brow,
  And on thy quiet breast
  Violets I throw.

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When All Has Been Said And Done.

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

"Perhaps it will all come right at last;
It may be, when all is done,
We shall be together in some good world,
Where to wish and to have are one."
--STODDARD.

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Dead-Maid's-Pool

© Sydney Thompson Dobell


Aye, aye, I envy thee,
Pitiful ash-tree!

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Ode III: To A Friend, Unsuccessful In Love

© Mark Akenside

I.

Indeed, my Phædria, if to find

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Indolence

© Robert Fuller Murray

Fain would I shake thee off, but weak am I
Thy strong solicitations to withstand.
Plenty of work lies ready to my hand,
Which rests irresolute, and lets it lie.

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Don Juan: Canto The Fifth

© George Gordon Byron

When amatory poets sing their loves

In liquid lines mellifluously bland,

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Discretion

© Edith Nesbit

AH, turn your pretty eyes away!
  You would not have me love again?
Love's pleasure does not live a day,
  Immortal is Love's pain,
  And I am tired of pain.

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The Shep’erd Bwoy

© William Barnes

When the warm zummer breeze do blow over the hill,

  An' the vlock's a-spread over the ground;