Great poems
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The King Of Denmark's Sons
© William Morris
In Denmark gone is many a year,
So fair upriseth the rim of the sun,
Two sons of Gorm the King there were,
So grey is the sea when day is done.
Alas! Where Have All The Years Gone
© Walther von der Vogelweide
Alas! Where have all the years gone?
Did I dream my life, or is it real?
To A Young Mother On The Birth Of Her First Born Child
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Young mother! proudly throbs thine heart, and well may it rejoice,
Well mayst thou raise to Heaven above in grateful prayer thy voice:
A gift hath been bestowed on thee, a gift of priceless worth,
Far dearer to thy womans heart than all the wealth of earth.
The Columbiad: Book III
© Joel Barlow
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
V: GleeThe great storm is over
© Emily Dickinson
GleeThe great storm is over
Fourhave recovered the Land
Forty gone down together
Into the boiling Sand.
The Impecunious Fop
© Joseph Hall
See'st thou how gaily my young master goes,
Vaunting himself upon his rising toes;
Reflections III.
© Samuel Rogers
The heart, they say, is wiser than the schools;
And well they may. All that is great in thought,
That strikes at once as with electric fire,
And lifts us, as it were, from earth to heaven,
The Brook Rhine
© Augusta Davies Webster
SMALL current of the wilds afar from men,
Changing and sudden as a baby's mood;
Inscription In A Beautiful Retreat Called Fairy Bower
© Hannah More
Airy spirits, you who love
Cooling bower, or shady grove;
Streams that murmur as they flow,
Zephyrs bland that softly blow;
Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - A Solemn Dirge
© Oliver Goldsmith
ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise,
And waken every note of woe;
When truth and virtue reach the skies,
'Tis ours to weep the want below!
Of The Son of Man
© George MacDonald
I. I honour Nature, holding it unjust
To look with jealousy on her designs;
Reading Aloud
© Christopher Morley
ONCE we read Tennyson aloud
In our great fireside chair;
Between the lines my lips could touch
Her April-scented hair.
Pasha Bailey Ben
© William Schwenck Gilbert
A proud Pasha was BAILEY BEN,
His wives were three, his tails were ten;
His form was dignified, but stout,
Men called him "Little Roundabout."
The Fire-side
© Nathaniel Cotton
Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd,
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
In folly's maze advance;
Tho' singularity and pride
Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside,
Nor join the giddy dance.
The Snowdrop In The Snow
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
O full of Faith! The Earth is rock,-the Heaven
The dome of a great palace all of ice,
The Psalm Of A Sojourner
© Henry Van Dyke
Thou hast taken me into the tent of the world, O God:
Beneath thy blue canopy I have found shelter:
Therefore thou wilt not deny me the right of a guest.
Song II
© Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski
Why flatter thyself, Tyrant,
In ways great in evil?
The Lord's goodness ceases not
Keeping watch on the pious.
The Waggoner - Canto Second
© William Wordsworth
IF Wytheburn's modest House of prayer,
As lowly as the lowliest dwelling,
Had, with its belfry's humble stock,
A little pair that hang in air,
