Great poems

/ page 157 of 549 /

Order by :

1
. . .
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
. . .
549

Evangeline: Part The First. IV.

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar.
Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people responded,
Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria
Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated,
Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven.

Epistle To John Hamilton Reynolds

© John Keats

The doors all look as if they op'd themselves,
The windows as if latch'd by fays and elves,
And from them comes a silver flash of light
As from the westward of a summer's night;
Or like a beauteous woman's large blue eyes
Gone mad through olden songs and poesies.

Ode To Joy -- With Translation

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Was den grossen Ring bewohnet,
Huldige der Sympathie!
Zu den Sternen leitet sie,
Wo der Unbekannte thronet.

Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book VII - Udyoga -- (The Preparation)

© Romesh Chunder Dutt

And to far Hastina's palace Krishna went to sue for peace,
Raised his voice against the slaughter, begged that strife and feud
should cease!

At Washington

© John Greenleaf Whittier

WITH a cold and wintry noon-light.
On its roofs and steeples shed,
Shadows weaving with t e sunlight
From the gray sky overhead,

Sonnett - XXV

© James Russell Lowell

I grieve not that ripe Knowledge takes away

The charm that Nature to my childhood wore,

Modern Elfland

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

I Cut a staff in a churchyard copse,
I clad myself in ragged things,
I set a feather in my cap
That fell out of an angel's wings.

Chomei At Toyama

© Basil Bunting

Swirl sleeping in the waterfall!
On motionless pools scum appearing
disappearing!

Die Unbekannte

© Heinrich Heine

My golden-haired beauty,
Im always sure of seeing,
In the Tuileries Gardens,
Under the chestnut trees.

Jerusalem Delivered - Book 03 - part 01

© Torquato Tasso

THE ARGUMENT.

The camp at great Jerusalem arrives:

The Skeleton Witness

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

ROOTED in soil dull as a dead man's eye,
Dank with decay, yon ghastly oak aspires,
As if in mockery, to the alien sky,
Frowning afar through clouded sunset fires.

The Challenge. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Third)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I have a vague remembrance
Of a story, that is told
In some ancient Spanish legend
Or chronicle of old.

Whistling Sam

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

When dey had revival meetin' an' de Lawd's good grace was flowin'
On de groun' dat needed wat'rin' whaih de seeds of good was growin',
While de othahs was a-singin' an' a-shoutin' right an' lef,
You could hyeah dat boy a-whistlin' kin' o' sof beneaf his bref:

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.

I.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;

Mrs. Moody

When this country it was woody,
Its great champion, Mrs. Moody,
She showed she had both pluck and push,
In her work, roughing in the bush.

The Evening Of The Holiday

The night is mild and clear, and without wind,

And o'er the roofs, and o'er the gardens round

Thompson Of Angels

It is the story of Thompson--of Thompson, the hero of Angels.
Frequently drunk was Thompson, but always polite to the stranger;
Light and free was the touch of Thompson upon his revolver;
Great the mortality incident on that lightness and freedom.