Great poems
/ page 190 of 549 /
Hakon's Lay
© James Russell Lowell
Then Thorstein looked at Hakon, where he sate,
Mute as a cloud amid the stormy hall,
The New Wife and the Old
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Dark the halls, and cold the feast,
Gone the bridemaids, gone the priest.
All is over, all is done,
Twain of yesterday are one!
Blooming girl and manhood gray,
Autumn in the arms of May!
Raschi In Prague
© Emma Lazarus
Raschi of Troyes, the Moon of Israel,
The authoritative Talmudist, returned
The Jackdaw
© William Cowper
There is a bird who, by his coat
And by the hoarseness of his note,
Might be supposed a crow;
A great frequenter of the church,
Where, bishop-like, he finds a perch,
And dormitory too.
Cavalry Charge At Balaclava
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Traveller on foreign ground, whoe'er thou art,
Tell the great tidings! They went down that day
The Woman With Jewels
© Lola Ridge
Why does she come alone to this obscure basement -
She who should have a litter and hand-maidens to support her
on either side?
Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 04 - Folly Of The Fear Of Death
© Lucretius
Therefore death to us
Is nothing, nor concerns us in the least,
King Solomon and the Ants
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Out from Jerusalem
The king rode with his great
War chiefs and lords of state,
And Sheba's queen with them;
My Heart
© George MacDonald
Night, with her power to silence day,
Filled up my lonely room,
Quenching all sounds but one that lay
Beyond her passing doom,
Where in his shed a workman gay
Went on despite the gloom.
The First Hymn Of Callimachus. To Jupiter
© Matthew Prior
While we to Jove select the holy victim
Whom apter shall we sing than Jove himself,
The Great Cities
© Henry Van Dyke
How wonderful are the cities that man hath builded:
Their walls are compacted of heavy stones,
And their lofty towers rise above the tree-tops.
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto VI.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Preludes.
I Love's Perversity
My Hunting Song
© Charles Kingsley
Forward! Hark forward's the cry!
One more fence and we're out on the open,
The Little Woman
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little woman, to her I bow
And doff my hat as I pass her by;
