Good poems
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To A Lady Playing The Cithern
© James Russell Lowell
So dreamy-soft the notes, so far away
They seem to fall, the horns of Oberon
Written On The Day Of My Aunt's Funeral
© Charles Lamb
Thou too art dead, ---! very kind
Hast thou been to me in my childish days,
Death of Ben Hall
© Anonymous
Come all Australia's sons to me -
A hero has been slain
And cowardly butchered in his sleep
Upon the Lachlan Plain.
Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 06 - Spring
© Kalidasa
"Oh, dear, with the just unfolded tender leaflets of Mango trees as his incisive arrows, and with shining strings of honeybees as his bowstring, the assailant named Vasanta came very nigh, to afflict the hearts of those that are fully engaged in affairs of lovemaking…
"Oh, dear, in Vasanta, Spring, trees are with flowers and waters are with lotuses, hence the breezes are agreeably fragrant with the fragrance of those flowers, thereby the eventides are comfortable and even the daytimes are pleasant with those fragrant breezes, thereby the women are with concupiscence, thus everything is highly pleasing…
Mr. Barney Maguire's Account Of The Coronation
© Richard Harris Barham
Och! the Coronation! what celebration
For emulation can with it compare?
Down by the Sydney Side
© Anonymous
Over near a chock-and-log hut,
Down by the river-side,
A bronzed young bushman sat,
Telling his blushing bride
The time had come when he must rove
Down by the Sydney side.
King Arthur's Death
© Thomas Percy
On Trinitye Mondaye in the morne,
This sore battayle was doom'd to bee,
Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye!
Alacke, it was the more pittìe.
The Dunciad: Book I.
© Alexander Pope
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings
The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings,
Interlude: Songs Out Of Sorrow
© Sara Teasdale
This is the spot where I will lie
When life has had enough of me,
These are the grasses that will blow
Above me like a living sea.
What Would It Be?
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Now what were the words of Jesus,
And what would He pause and say,
The Sixth Olympic Ode Of Pindar
© Henry James Pye
A sudden thought I raptur'd feel,
Which, as the whetstone points the steel,
Brightens my sense, and bids me warbling raise
To the soft-breathing flute, the kindred notes of praise.
Harry (Engaged To Be Married) To Charley (Who Is Not)
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
To all my fond rhapsodies, Charley,
You have wearily listened, I fear;
Weeks End In Zummer, In The Wold Voks Time
© William Barnes
Zoo maïd an' woman, bwoy an' man,
Went off, while zunzet aïr did fan
Their merry zunburnt feäzen; zome
Down leäne, an' zome drough parrocks hwome.
Bethlehem-Town
© Eugene Field
As I was going to Bethlehem-town,
Upon the earth I cast me down
All underneath a little tree
That whispered in this wise to me:
"Oh, I shall stand on Calvary
And bear what burthen saveth thee!"
Book Of Gloom
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
IT is a fault oneself to praise,
And yet 'tis done by each whose deeds are kind;
And if there's no deceit in what he says,
The good we still as good shall find.
Let, then, ye fools, that wise man taste
"I read a statement in a newspaper"
© Lesbia Harford
I read a statement in a newspaper
That Twentyman, the manufacturer,
Found it was cheaper to deliver goods
By horse and lorry than by motor-truck
The Lambs on the Boulder
© James Wright
I hear that the Commune di Padova has an exhibition of master-
pieces from Giotto to Mantegna. Giotto is the master of angels, and
The Year's End
© Roderic Quinn
THE voices of the wind and wave
They sigh the Old Year's requiem;
The dead are calling from the grave
Good friends, a little space I crave
Mountain Pictures
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I. FRANCONIA FROM THE PEMIGEWASSET
Once more, O Mountains of the North, unveil
