Great poems

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The Choice

© Emma Lazarus

I saw in dream the spirits unbegot,

Veiled, floating phantoms, lost in twilight space;

The Path

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

THERE are no beaten paths to Glory's height,

There are no rules to compass greatness known;

Ships that Pass in the Night

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;

I look far out into the pregnant night,

King Of The River

© Stanley Kunitz

If the water were clear enough,

if the water were still,

In The Train, And At Versailles

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

In a dull swiftness we are carried by

With bodies left at sway and shaking knees.

Ode VII: To The Right Reverend Benjamin Lord Bishop Of Winchester

© Mark Akenside

I. 1.

For toils which patriots have endur'd,

In the Elysée, and had lost the day
But that around him flocked his birds of prey,
Sharp-beaked, voracious, hungry for the deed.
'Twixt hope and fear beheld great Cæsar hang!
Meanwhile, methinks, a ghostly laughter rang
Through the rotunda of the Invalides.

The Larks Nest

© Charlotte Turner Smith

"TRUST only to thyself;" the maxim's sound;

For, tho' life's choicest blessing be a friend,

Hero And Leander. The Fifth Sestiad

© George Chapman

Now was bright Hero weary of the day,

Thought an Olympiad in Leander's stay.

As Ireland Wore the Green

© Henry Lawson

BY RIGHT of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?

Effort

© Edgar Albert Guest

He brought me his report card from the teacher and he said

He wasn't very proud of it and sadly bowed his head.

Under The Willows

© James Russell Lowell

Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,

Gypsy, whose roof is every spreading tree,

Sirmione

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Give me your hand, Beloved! I cannot see;
So close from shadowy--branching tree to tree
Dark leaves hang over us. How vast and still
Night sleeps! and yet a murmur, a low thrill,

The Repulse to Alcander

© Sarah Fyge

What is't you mean, that I am thus approach'd,

Dare you to hope, that I may be debauch'd?

A Worker Reads History

Each page a victory
At whose expense the victory ball?
Every ten years a great man,
Who paid the piper?

Christ

But Truth, and Truth's great Master cannot die;
While Love, the seraph, free of wings and eyes,
Upsweeps the realm of calm immensity.
A thousand times our buried shall rise
In prayerful souls to hush their anguished sighs,
And dawn, not darkness, rule o'er earth and sky.

The Columbiad: Book VI

© Joel Barlow

But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.

© Lucretius

Now come, and next hereafter apprehend

What sorts, how vastly different in form,

The Temple

Beyond the gates of Hercules
The seven builders took the stone,
Spurned everywhere in days of ease,
Long lying loose and overthrown,
Now carried over bitter seas
Where crystally Arcturus shone!