Great poems
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The Hind and the Panther: Part I
© John Dryden
A milk-white Hind, immortal and unchang'd,Fed on the lawns, and in the forest rang'd;Without unspotted, innocent within,She fear'd no danger, for she knew no sin
Alexander's Feast
© John Dryden
I By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne; His valiant peers were plac'd around;Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound: (So should desert in arms be crown'd
For the Baptist
© William Drummond (of Hawthornden)
The last and greatest herald of heaven's king,Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,Which he than man more harmless found and mild;His food was locusts and what young doth spring,With honey that from virgin hives distill'd;Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thingMade him appear, long since from earth exil'd
Ode to the Virginian Voyage
© Michael Drayton
You brave heroic minds,Worthy your country's name,That honour still pursue,Go and subdue!Whilst loit'ring hindsLurk here at home with shame.
Ode to the Cambro-Britons and their Harp, His Ballad of Agincourt
© Michael Drayton
Fair stood the wind for France,When we our sails advance;Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry;But putting to the main,At Caux, the mouth of Seine,With all his martial train Landed King Harry.
Noah's Flood
© Michael Drayton
Eternal and all-working God, which wastBefore the world, whose frame by Thee was cast,And beautified with beamful lamps above,By thy great wisdom set how they should moveTo guide the seasons, equally to all,Which come and go as they do rise and fall
Idea LI
© Michael Drayton
Calling to mind since first my love begun,Th' incertain times oft varying in their course,How things still unexpectedly have run,As t' please the fates by their resistless force:Lastly, mine eyes amazedly have seenEssex' great fall, Tyrone his peace to gain,The quiet end of that long-living Queen,This King's fair entrance, and our peace with Spain,We and the Dutch at length ourselves to sever:Thus the world doth and evermore shall reel
Endimion and Phoebe
© Michael Drayton
In Ionia whence sprang old poets' fame,From whom that sea did first derive her name,The blessed bed whereon the Muses lay,Beauty of Greece, the pride of Asia,Whence Archelaus, whom times historify,First unto Athens brought philosophy:In this fair region on a goodly plain,Stretching her bounds unto the bord'ring main,The mountain Latmus overlooks the sea,Smiling to see the ocean billows play:Latmus, where young Endymion used to keepHis fairest flock of silver-fleeced sheep,To whom Silvanus often would resort,At barley-brake to see the Satyrs sport;And when rude Pan his tabret list to sound,To see the fair Nymphs foot it in a round,Under the trees which on this mountain grew,As yet the like Arabia never knew;For all the pleasures Nature could deviseWithin this plot she did imparadise;And great Diana of her special graceWith vestal rites had hallowed all the place
To Ennui
© Joseph Rodman Drake
Avaunt! arch enemy of fun, Grim nightmare of the mind;Which way great Momus! shall I run, A refuge safe to find?My puppy's dead -- Miss Rumor's breath Is stopt for lack of news,And Fitz is almost hyp'd to death, And Lang has got the blues
Religio Medici
© Doyle Arthur Conan
God's own best will bide the test And God's own worst will fall;But, best or worst or last or first, He ordereth it all.
The Guards Came Through
© Doyle Arthur Conan
Men of the Twenty-first Up by the Chalk Pit Wood,Weak with our wounds and our thirst, Wanting our sleep and our food,After a day and a night
[Recusancy]
© John Donne
Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve,Whom honour's smokes at once fatten and starve,Poorly enrich't with great men's words or looks ;Nor so write my name in thy loving booksAs those idolatrous flatterers, which stillTheir princes' style with many realms fulfill,Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway
The Perfume
© John Donne
Once, and but once found in thy company,All thy suppos'd escapes are laid on me;And as a thief at bar is question'd thereBy all the men that have been robb'd that year,So am I, (by this traitorous means surpriz'd)By thy hydroptic father catechiz'd
On His Mistress
© John Donne
By our first strange and fatal interview,By all desires which thereof did ensue,By our long starving hopes, by that remorseWhich my words masculine persuasive forceBegot in thee, and by the memoryOf hurts, which spies and rivals threaten'd me,I calmly beg
Love's Progress
© John Donne
Whoever loves, if he do not proposeThe right true end of love, he's one that goesTo sea for nothing but to make him sick
Jealousy
© John Donne
Fond woman, which wouldst have thy husband die,And yet complain'st of his great jealousy;If, swollen with poison, he lay in his last bed,His body with a sere bark covered,Drawing his breath as thick and short as canThe nimblest crocheting musician,Ready with loathsome vomiting to spewHis soul out of one hell into a new,Made deaf with his poor kindred's howling cries,Begging with few feign'd tears great legacies,Thou wouldst not weep, but jolly, and frolic be,As a slave, which to-morrow should be free
[Image and Dream]
© John Donne
Image of her whom I love, more than she, Whose fair impression in my faithful heart,Makes me her medal, and makes her love me, As kings do coins, to which their stamps impartThe value: go, and take my heart from hence, Which now is grown too great and good for me:Honours oppress weak spirits, and our sense Strong objects dull; the more, the less we see
The Bracelet
© John Donne
Not that in colour it was like thy hair,For armlets of that thou mayst let me wear;Nor that thy hand is oft embrac'd and kiss'd,For so it had that good which oft I miss'd;Not for that seely old morality,That as those links are tied our love should be;Nor for the luck sake; but the bitter cost
The Anagram
© John Donne
Marry, and love thy Flavia, for sheHath all things, whereby others beauteous be;For, though her eyes be small, her mouth is great;Though they be ivory, yet her teeth be jet;Though they be dim, yet she is light enough;And though her harsh hair fall, her skin is tough;What though her cheeks be yellow, her hair's red,Give her thine, and she hath a maidenhead
