Great poems
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A young Fir-Wood
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THESE little firs to-day are things
To clasp into a giant's cap,
The Romance Of Britomarte ~~~
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
I'll tell you a story; but pass the "jack",
And let us make merry to-night, my men.
Aye, those were the days when my beard was black -
I like to remember them now and then -
Town and Country
© Rupert Brooke
Here, where love's stuff is body, arm and side
Are stabbing-sweet 'gainst chair and lamp and wall.
In every touch more intimate meanings hide;
And flaming brains are the white heart of all.
Vision Of The Archangels, The
© Rupert Brooke
They then from the sheer summit cast, and watched it fall,
Through unknown glooms, that frail black coffin -- and therein
God's little pitiful Body lying, worn and thin,
And curled up like some crumpled, lonely flower-petal --
Till it was no more visible; then turned again
With sorrowful quiet faces downward to the plain.
Sonnet XXXIV. Life And Death. 6.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
So, heralded by Reason, Faith may tread
The darkened vale, the dolorous paths of night,
In the great thought secure that life and light
Flow from the Soul of all, who, with the dead
The Hermit of Thebaid
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O strong, upwelling prayers of faith,
From inmost founts of life ye start,-
The spirit's pulse, the vital breath
Of soul and heart!
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Theologian's Tale; Elizabeth
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Ah, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!
In the old country the twilight is longer; but here in the forest
Suddenly comes the dark, with hardly a pause in its coming,
Hardly a moment between the two lights, the day and the lamplight;
Yet how grand is the winter! How spotless the snow is, and perfect!"
Mary and Gabriel
© Rupert Brooke
Young Mary, loitering once her garden way,
Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day,
As wine that blushes water through. And soon,
Out of the gold air of the afternoon,
A Hymn to Contentment
© Thomas Parnell
Lovely, lasting peace, appear!
This world itself, if thou art here,
Is once again with Eden blest,
And man contains it in his breast.
Indian Summer
© William Wilfred Campbell
Along the line of smoky hills
The crimson forest stands,
And all the day the blue-jay calls
Throughout the autumn lands.
He Wonders Whether to Praise or Blame Her
© Rupert Brooke
I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over,
But if to praise or blame you, cannot say.
For, who decries the loved, decries the lover;
Yet what man lauds the thing hes thrown away?
The Singing Leaves
© James Russell Lowell
'What fairings will ye that I bring?'
Said the King to his daughters three;
'For I to Vanity Fair am bound,
Now say what shall they be?'
Loss And Waste
© Jean Ingelow
Up to far Osteroe and Suderoe
The deep sea-floor lies strewn with Spanish wrecks,
O'er minted gold the fair-haired fishers go,
O'er sunken bravery of high carv褠decks.
Ode to Memory
© Alfred Tennyson
O strengthen me, englighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.
Messengers Of Dreams
© William Stanley Braithwaite
My heart can tell them, every one,
The messengers of dreams that run
Above the tree-tops in the sun.
Day And Night
© Rupert Brooke
But when I sleep, and all my thoughts go straying,
When the high session of the day is ended,
And darkness comes; then, with the waning light,
By lilied maidens on your way attended,
Proud from the wonted throne, superbly swaying,
You, like a queen, pass out into the night.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 02 - part 01
© Torquato Tasso
THE ARGUMENT.
Ismeno conjures, but his charms are vain;
A Memory
© Rupert Brooke
(From a sonnet-sequence)
Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept
Softly along the dim way to your room,
And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom,
