Great poems
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The Sylph Of Summer
© William Lisle Bowles
God said, Let there be light, and there was light!
At once the glorious sun, at his command,
Compensation
© Jean Ingelow
One launched a ship, but she was wrecked at sea;
He built a bridge, but floods have borne it down;
Circe
© Augusta Davies Webster
Ah me! these love a day and laugh again,
and loving, laughing, find a full content;
but I know nought of peace, and have not loved.
A Psalm Of Resignation
© Joseph Furphy
In spite of his imposing plea,
A freeman whom the truth makes free
At Stratford-Upon-Avon
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Thus spake his dust (so seemed it as I read
The words): Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbeare
The Camp-Fires Of My Friend
© Henry Van Dyke
Thou hast taken me into thy 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.
The Speckled Trout
© Madison Julius Cawein
With rod and line I took my way
That led me through the gossip trees,
Where all the forest was asway
With hurry of the running breeze.
Requiescant
© Frederick George Scott
In lonely watches night by night
Great visions burst upon my sight,
For down the stretches of the sky
The hosts of dead go marching by.
The Young Volunteer
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
With a knock upon the window comes the young volunteer,
'Tis his step upon the threshold; "what is it brings you here?"
The Seas of England
© Walter de la Mare
The seas of England are our old delight:
Let the loud billow of the shingly shore
Sing freedom on her breezes evermore
To all earths ships that sailing heave in sight!
The Last To Leave
© Leon Gellert
The guns were silent, and the silent hills
had bowed their grasses to a gentle breeze
I gazed upon the vales and on the rills,
And whispered, "What of these?' and "What of these?
Dance Of The Hanged Men
© Arthur Rimbaud
On the black gallows, one-armed friend,
The paladins are dancing, dancing
The lean, the devil's paladins
The skeletons of Saladins.
As In The Midst Of Battle There Is Room
© George Santayana
As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;
The Marriage Of Geraint
© Alfred Tennyson
'Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine, storm, and cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.
I would go home againto rooms...
© Boris Pasternak
I would go home againto rooms
With sadness large at eventide,
Go in, take off my overcoat,
And in the light of streets outside
November, 1851
© George MacDonald
Why wilt thou stop and start?
Draw nearer, oh my heart,
And I will question thee most wistfully;
Gather thy last clear resolution
To look upon thy dissolution.
The Right Way
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Birth of the word is by agony molded,
Through earthly life it is quietly going,
It is a stranger, which drinks from the golden
Pitcher the drops of the savages mourning.
