Great poems
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In Response
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SUCH kindness! the scowl of a cynic would soften,
His pulse beat its way to some eloquent words,
Alas! my poor accents have echoed too often,
Like that Pinafore music you've some of you heard.
The Ancient Banner
© Anonymous
In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
Shelley's Centenary
© William Watson
Within a narrow span of time,
Three princes of the realm of rhyme,
At height of youth or manhood's prime,
From earth took wing,
To join the fellowship sublime
Who, dead, yet sing.
George Rolleston
© George MacDonald
Dead art thou? No more dead than was the maid
Over whose couch the saving God did stand-
"She is not dead but sleepeth," said,
And took her by the hand!
Kismet
© Jean Ingelow
Into the rock the road is cut full deep,
At its low ledges village children play,
From its high rifts fountains of leafage weep,
And silvery birches sway.
Cricket On The Hearth
© Norman Rowland Gale
When red-nosed Winter takes the road,
An icicle his walking-stick,
A Servian Legend
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Long, long ago, ere yet our race began,
When earth was empty, waiting still for man,
Before the breath of life to him was given
The angels fell into a strife in heaven.
Independence
© Charles Churchill
Happy the bard (though few such bards we find)
Who, 'bove controlment, dares to speak his mind;
A Last Word
© Madison Julius Cawein
OH, for some cup of consummating might,
Filled with life's kind conclusion, lost in night!
A wine of darkness, that with death shall cure
This sickness called existence! Oh to find
Foxhound Puppies
© William Henry Ogilvie
Great big lolloping lovable things!
Rolling and tumbling on every lawn,
To Hermann Stoffkraft, Ph.D., The Hero Of A Recent Work Called Paradoxical Philosophy
© James Clerk Maxwell
A paradoxical ode, after Shelley.
Pytheas
© Henry Kendall
Gaul whose keel in far, dim ages ploughed wan widths of polar sea
Gray old sailor of Massilia, who hath woven wreath for thee?
On The Downs
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
When you came over the top of the world
In the great day on the Downs,
The air was crisp and the clouds were curled,
When you came over the top of the world,
And under your feet were spire and street
And seven English towns.
Hermann and Thusnelda
© Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock
Ha! there comes he, with sweat, with blood of Romans,
And with dust of the fight all stained! O, never
Saw I Hermann so lovely!
Never such fire in his eyes!
Philip Massinger: V
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
CLOUDS here and there arisen an hour past noon
Chequered our English heaven with lengthening bars
