Great poems
/ page 194 of 549 /The Mother Gives Up Her Daughter
© Katharine Tynan
Though I must yield her up to you, her lover,
I have had sweetness more than you can know,
The little great-eyed maid beyond recover,
And all her tender worship long ago.
St. Michael's Mount
© William Lisle Bowles
INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD SOMERS.
While summer airs scarce breathe along the tide,
At Eleusis
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
MEN of Eleusis, ye that with long staves
Sit in the market-houses, and speak words
The Faerie Queene, Book II, Canto XII
© Edmund Spenser
THE SECOND BOOKE OF THE FAERIE QUEENE
Contayning
THE LEGEND OF SIR GUYON,
OR OF TEMPERAUNCECANTO XIIxlii
Living Monuments
© Edgar Albert Guest
OUR children are our monuments,
The little ones we leave behind,
If they are good and brave and kind,
And labor here with true intents,
Our lives and work perpetuate
Far more than marble tablets great.
Reflections Suggested By Winter
© James Thomson
'Tis done! dread winter spreads its latest glooms,
And reigns tremendous o'er the conquer'd year.
How dead the vegetable kingdom lies!
How dumb the tuneful! Horror wide extends
Knowledge
© Archibald Lampman
Oh for a life of leisure and broad hours,
To think and dream, to put away small things,
This world's perpetual leaguer of dull naughts;
To wander like the bee among the flowers
Till old age find us weary, feet and wings
Grown heavy with the gold of many thoughts.
The Task: Book I. -- The Sofa
© William Cowper
I sing the Sofa. I who lately sang
Truth, Hope, and Charity, and touched with awe
Periander
© George Meredith
How died Melissa none dares shape in words.
A woman who is wife despotic lords
Count faggot at the question, Shall she live!
Her son, because his brows were black of her,
Runs barking for his bread, a fugitive,
And Corinth frowns on them that feed the cur.
Five Little Toes At Night
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
This little toe is tired,
This little toe needs rocking,
This little toe is sleepy you know,
But this little toe keeps talking,
This toe big and tall is the mischief of all,
For he made a great hole in his stocking.
'Bound for the Lord-Knows-Where'
© Henry Lawson
'Where are you going with your horse and bike,
And the townsfolk still at rest?
To G. C. And R. L.
© Oliver Goldsmith
'TWAS you, or I, or he, or all together,
'Twas one, both, three of them, they know not whether;
This, I believe, between us great or small,
You, I, he, wrote it not--'twas Churchill's all.
The Old Man's Counsel
© William Cullen Bryant
Long since that white-haired ancient slept--but still,
When the red flower-buds crowd the orchard bough,
And the ruffed grouse is drumming far within
The woods, his venerable form again
Is at my side, his voice is in my ear.
Moonrise
© Bliss William Carman
AT the end of the road through the wood
I see the great moon rise.
The fields are flooded with shine,
And my soul with surmise.
The Missionary - Canto First
© William Lisle Bowles
Three hundred brandished spears shone to the sky:
We perish, or we leave our country free;
Father, our blood for Chili and for thee!
The mountain-chief essayed his club to wield,
And shook the dust indignant from the shield.
Then spoke:--
Dedication
© Charles Churchill
To Churchill's Sermons.
The manuscript of this unfinished poem was found among the few papers
The Builders
© Henry Van Dyke
ODE FOR THE HUNDRED AND FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF PRINCETON COLLEGE
October 21, 1896