Great poems
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Lines On Hearing, Three Or Four Years Ago, That Constantinople Was Swallowed Up By An Earthquake;
© Amelia Opie
A Report, though false, at that time generally believed.
Nature, For Nature's Sake
© Jean Ingelow
White as white butterflies that each one dons
Her face their wide white wings to shade withal,
Many moon-daisies throng the water-spring.
While couched in rising barley titlarks call,
And bees alit upon their martagons
Do hang a-murmuring, a-murmuring.
The Gods Of Greece
© John Kenyon
Ye Gods of Greece! Bright Fictions! when
Ye ruled, of old, a happier race,
The Burial of Saint Brendan
© Padraic Colum
ON the third day from this (Saint Brendan said)
I will be where no wind that filled a sail
Antiphon II.
© George Herbert
Chor. Praised be the God of love,
Men. Here below,
Angels. And here above:
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 02
© Torquato Tasso
XI
Thus when the Lord discovered had, and seen
On The Proposal To Erect A Monument In England To Lord Byron
© Emma Lazarus
The grass of fifty Aprils hath waved green
Above the spent heart, the Olympian head,
Amais
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
``O King Amasis, hail!
News from thy friend, the King Polycrates!
My oars have never rested on the seas
The Vow Of Washington
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The sword was sheathed: in April's sun
Lay green the fields by Freedom won;
And severed sections, weary of debates,
Joined hands at last and were United States.
The Question
© Rudyard Kipling
Brethren, how shall it fare with me
When the war is laid aside,
If it be proven that I am he
For whom a world has died?
The Bonnie House O' Airly
© Andrew Lang
It fell on a day, and a bonnie summer day,
When the corn grew green and yellow,
That there fell out a great dispute
Between Argyle and Airly.
On Happiness
© James Thomson
Warm'd by the summer sun's meridian ray,
As underneath a spreading oak I lay
Contemplating the mighty load of woe,
In search of bliss that mortals undergo,
Good Friday, A.D. 33
© Katharine Tynan
Mother, why are people crowding now and staring?
Child, it is a malefactor goes to His doom,
To the high hill of Calvary He's faring,
And the people pressing and pushing to make room
Lest they miss the sight to come.
An Epigram On The Same Occasion.
© Mary Barber
So little giv'n at Chapel Door!--
This People doubtless must be poor:
So much at Gaming thrown away!--
No Nation sure so rich as they.
An Heroical Epistle of Hudibras to Sidrophel
© Samuel Butler
Ecce Iterum Crispinus. -
WELL! SIDROPHEL, though 'tis in vain
Of The Nature Of Things: Book IV - Part 05 - The Passion Of Love
© Lucretius
This craving 'tis that's Venus unto us:
From this, engender all the lures of love,
Belgium
© Edith Wharton
Not with her ruined silver spires,
Not with her cities shamed and rent,
Perish the imperishable fires
That shape the homestead from the tent.
