Good poems
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On The Dutchess Of Newcastle's Picture.
© Mary Barber
Say, Worsdcal, where you learn'd the Art
To paint the Goodness of the Heart
The flatt'ring Teint let others prize;
You call the Soul into the Eyes:
The Overlander
© Anonymous
There's a trade you all know well -
It's bringing cattle over:
I'll tell you all about the time
When I became a drover.
The Sermon in the Stocking
© Anonymous
The supper is over, the hearth is swept,
And in the wood-fire's glow
The children cluster to hear a tale
Of that time so long ago,
Friars Song
© William Makepeace Thackeray
Some love the matin-chimes, which tell
The hour of prayer to sinner:
Ilicet
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THERE is an end of joy and sorrow;
Peace all day long, all night, all morrow,
But never a time to laugh or weep.
The end is come of pleasant places,
The end of tender words and faces,
The end of all, the poppied sleep.
A Lament
© Victor Marie Hugo
"O paths whereon wild grasses wave,
O valleys, hillsides, forests hoar!
Why are ye silent as the grave?"
"For one who came, and comes no more!"
Songs with Preludes: Dominion
© Jean Ingelow
I.
Yon mooréd mackerel fleet
Hangs thick as a swarm of bees,
Or a clustering village street
Foundationless built on the seas.
The Fairy West
© Henry Lawson
P.S.: I was in Yewklid the day I finished
Me edyercashun in those times dim
My younger brother cleared out to Queensland,
Twas mountains and rivers that finished him.
"This dainty instrument, this tabletoy"
© Richard Monckton Milnes
This dainty instrument, this table--toy,
Might seem best fitted for the use and joy
Of some high Ladie in old gallant times,
Or gay--learned weaver of Provencal rhymes:
On Mrs. Blandford
© Hannah More
Meek shade, farewell! go seek that quiet shore
Where sin shall vex, and sorrow wound no more;
Noey Bixler
© James Whitcomb Riley
Another hero of those youthful years
Returns, as Noey Bixler's name appears.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 14
© William Langland
"I have but oon hool hater,' quod Haukyn, "I am the lasse to blame
Though it be soiled and selde clene - I slepe therinne o nyghtes;
And also I have an houswif, hewen and children -
Uxorem duxi, et ideo non possum venire -
That wollen bymolen it many tyme, maugree my chekes.
Admirals All
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Admirals all, for England's sake,
Honour be yours and fame!
And honour, as long as waves shall break,
To Nelson's peerless name!
The Soldier's Funeral
© Robert Southey
O my God!
I thank thee that I am not such as these
I thank thee for the eye that sees, the heart
That feels, the voice that in these evil days
That amid evil tongues, exalts itself
And cries aloud against the iniquity.
How The Robin Came
© John Greenleaf Whittier
When next morn the sun's first rays
Glistened on the hemlock sprays,
Straight that lodge the old chief sought,
And boiled sainp and moose meat brought.
"Rise and eat, my son!" he said.
Lo, he found the poor boy dead!
The Muses Threnodie: Second Muse
© Henry Adamson
Then thus, quod I, good Gall, I pray thee show,
For cleerly all antiquities yee know:
What mean these skonses, and these hollow trenches,
Throughout these fallow fields and yonder inches?
And these great heaps of stones like piramids,
Doubtless all these ye knew, that so much reads;
