Great poems
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The Triumph of Time
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Before our lives divide for ever,
While time is with us and hands are free,
Ned Connor
© Charles Harpur
TWAS nightand where a watery sound
Came moaning up the Flat,
Six rude and bearded stockmen round
Their blazing hut-fire sat,
And laughed as on some starting hound
The cracking fuel spat.
The Unnamed Lake
© Frederick George Scott
It sleeps among the thousand hills
Where no man ever trod,
Humboldts Birthday
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
ERE yet the warning chimes of midnight sound,
Set back the flaming index of the year,
Track the swift-shifting seasons in their round
Through fivescore circles of the swinging sphere!
Sir Peter Harpdon's End
© William Morris
John Curzon
Of those three prisoners, that before you came
We took down at St. John's hard by the mill,
Two are good masons; we have tools enough,
And you have skill to set them working.
Swift
© Delmore Schwartz
What shall Presto do for pretty prattle
To entertain his dears? Sunday: lightning fifty times!
This week to Flanders goes the Duke of Ormond!
Shall hope of him, although he loves me well!
True Greatness
© Charles Wesley
Who is as the Christian great?
Bought and washed with sacred blood,
Crowns he sees beneath his feet.
Soars aloft and walks with God.
Wandering Willie
© Sir Walter Scott
All joy was bereft me the day that you left me,
And climb'd the tall vessel to sail yon wide sea;
O weary betide it! I wander'd beside it,
And bann'd it for parting my Willie and me.
The Song Of Hiawatha XVI: Pau-Puk-Keewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,
He, the handsome Yenadizze,
Neighboring You
© Eli Siegel
On a table
With the sunlight coming in,
A mat, irregularly placed, with many curves within it;
A napkin somewhat used, by now a little disreputable,
The Coast-Road
© Robinson Jeffers
A horseman high-alone as an eagle on the spur of the mountain over Mirmas Canyon draws rein, looks down
At the bridge-builders, men, trucks, the power-shovels, the teeming end of the new coast-road at the mountain’s base.
Sonnets from the Portuguese 20: Beloved, my Beloved
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
That thou wast in the world a year ago,
A Mystery Play
© Duncan Campbell Scott
There must be fire in the city
To throw that yellow glare;
And fire in the little villages
On all the hearthstones there.
Sunset
© George Charles Whitney
Behind the golden western hills
The sun goes down, a founder'd bark,
Only a mighty sadness fills
The silence of the dark.
Fand, A Feerie Act III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
[She looks towards the sea.
Attendant. None.
The sea mist drives too thickly.
Banjo Dog Variations
© Donald Justice
Agriculture and Industry
Embraced in public on a wall
Heroes in shirt-sleeves! Next to them
The average man felt small.
