Great poems
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Gracia
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Nay, nay, Antonio! nay, thou shalt not blame her,
My Gracia, who hath so deserted me.
Thou art my friend, but if thou dost defame her
I shall not hesitate to challenge thee.
Of Death
© John Bunyan
Death, as a king rampant and stout
The world he dare engage;
He conquers all, yea, and doth rout
The great, strong, wise, and sage.
The Voice of the Negro
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
All ye nations, pause a moment! listen to the Negro's voice,
Coming up from all vocations where his life has made a choice!
Listen to each rank or station, as you cross the sea of time,
It is heard in ev'ry nation, any race and ev'ry clime.
The Song Of Hiawatha: Introduction And Vocabulary
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If still further you should ask me,
Saying, "Who was Nawadaha?
Tell us of this Nawadaha,"
I should answer your inquiries
Straightway in such words as follow.
Ode Recited At The Harvard Commemoration July 21, 1865
© James Russell Lowell
Weak-Winged is Song,
Nor aims at that clear-ethered height
A Legacy
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Friend of my many years!
When the great silence falls, at last, on me,
Freedoms
© Gerald Gould
To every hill there is a lowly slope,
But some have heights beyond all height--so high
They make new worlds for the adventuring eye.
We for achievement have forgone our hope,
And shall not see another morning ope,
Nor the new moon come into the new sky.
A Pageant of Elizabeth
© Rudyard Kipling
Now Valour, Youth, and Life's delight break forth
In flames of wondrous deed, and thought sublime--
Lightly to mould new worlds or lightly loose
Words that shall shake and shape all after-time!
To Rutherford Birchard Hayes
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
How to address him? awkward, it is true
Call him "Great Father," as the Red Men do?
Borrow some title? this is not the place
That christens men Your Highness and Your Grace;
We tried such names as these awhile, you know,
But left them off a century ago.
O Maytime Woods!
© Madison Julius Cawein
Serene with sleep, light visions weigh her eyes:
And underneath her window blooms a quince.
The night is a sultana who doth rise
In slippered caution, to admit a prince,
Love, who her eunuchs and her lord defies.
The Garden Of Adonis
© Emma Lazarus
(The Garden of Life in Spenser's "Faerie Queene.")
IT is no fabled garden in the skies,
But bloometh here this is no world of death;
And nothing that once liveth, ever dies,
Polyhymnia
© George Peele
Therefore, when thirtie two were come and gone,
Years of her raigne, daies of her countries peace,
Elizabeth great Empresse of the world,
Britanias Atlas, Star of Englands globe,
Conversation
© William Cowper
Though nature weigh our talents, and dispense
To every man his modicum of sense,
Pippa Passes: Part II: Noon
© Robert Browning
You by me,
And I by you; this is your hand in mine,
And side by side we sit: all's true. Thank God!
I have spoken: speak you!
Consolation
© Edgar Albert Guest
SO YOU 'RE sobbin' in the night time, an' you 're sighin' through the day,
An' your heart is ever callin' for the loved one gone away;
An' you're lonely, oh, so lonely! an' there's nothin' friends can do,
That will start the old light shinin' in those tender eyes of blue.
The Ape
© Charles Lamb
An Ape is but a trivial beast,
Men count it light and vain;
But I would let them have their thoughts,
To have my Ape again.
Spring Song
© Bliss William Carman
Like a whim of Grieg's or Gounod's,
This same self, bird, bud, or Bluenose,
Some day I may capture (Who knows?)
Just the one last joy I lack,
Waking to the far new summons,
When the old spring winds come back.
Minstrel's Book - The Four Favours
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THAT Arabs through the realms of space
May wander on, light-hearted,
To The Honourable Mrs. Percival.
© Mary Barber
Then let good Heav'n withhold, or grant Success,
Add to a Weight of Cares, or make it less;
By you protected, I no more repine:
How few can boast an Happiness like mine!
A Bliss so great can Wealth, or Pow'r, impart,
As one fix'd Friend, with such a Head, and Heart?
Reflections On Having Left A Place Of Retirement
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sermoni propriora.~ Horace
Low was our pretty Cot: our tallest Rose
Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear
At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
