Great poems
/ page 367 of 549 /
The Four Princesses At Wilna. A Photograph
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sweet faces, that from pictured casements lean
As from a castle window, looking down
Ode To Peace
© William Cowper
Come, peace of mind, delightful guest!
Return and make thy downy nest
Once more in this sad heart:
Nor riches I, nor power pursue,
Nor hold forbidden joys in view,
We therefore need not part.
The Playmate
© Rudyard Kipling
She is not Folly - that I know.
Her steadfast eyelids tell me so
When, at the hour the lights divide,
She steals as summonsed to my side.
"When I Have Borne In Memory"
© William Wordsworth
WHEN I have borne in memory what has tamed
Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart
By occasion of the Young Prince his happy birth
© Henry King
At this glad Triumph, when most Poets use
Their quill, I did not bridle up my Muse
For sloth or less devotion. I am one
That can well keep my Holy-dayes at home;
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 10:
© Conrad Aiken
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees
The soft blue starlight through the one small window,
The moon above black trees, and clouds, and Venus,
And turns to write . . . The clock, behind ticks softly.
Quest For God
© Swami Vivekananda
O'ver hill and dale and mountain range,
In temple, church, and mosque,
In Vedas, Bible, Al Koran
I had searched for Thee in vain.
Breakers
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
When you launch your bark for sailing
On the sea of life, O youth!
Clothe your heart and soul and spirit
In the blessèd garb of Truth.
Little Ships
© Lesbia Harford
The little ships are dearer than the great ships
For they sail in strange places,
They lean nearer the green waters.
One may count by wavelets how the year slips
From their decks; and hear the Sea-King's daughters
Laughing at their play whene'er the boat dips.
Republic And Motherland
© Alfred Noyes
Up the vast harbor with the morning sun
The ship swept in from sea;
Gigantic towers arose, the night was done,
And--there stood Liberty.
Written in Milton's PARADISE LOST.
© Mather Byles
Had I, O had I all the tuneful Arts
Of lofty Verse; did ev'ry Muse inspire
Song of Poplars
© Aldous Huxley
Shepherd, to yon tall poplars tune your flute:
Let them pierce, keenly, subtly shrill,
The slow blue rumour of the hill;
Let the grass cry with an anguish of evening gold,
And the great sky be mute.
Panthea
© Oscar Wilde
. NAY, let us walk from fire unto fire,
From passionate pain to deadlier delight,-
I am too young to live without desire,
Too young art thou to waste this summer night
Asking those idle questions which of old
Man sought of seer and oracle, and no reply was told.
The Old Manor House
© Ada Cambridge
An old house, crumbling half away, all barnacled and lichen-grown,
Of saddest, mellowest, softest grey,-with a grand history of its own-
Grand with the work and strife and tears of more than half a thousand years.
A Model For The Laureate
© William Butler Yeats
ON thrones from China to Peru
All sorts of kings have sat
After Sunset
© Grace Hazard Conkling
I have an understanding with the hills
At evening when the slanted radiance fills
Cupid And Ganymede
© Matthew Prior
In Heav'n, one Holy-day, You read
In wise Anacreon, Ganymede
Drew heedless Cupid in, to throw
A Main, to pass an Hour, or so.
The little Trojan, by the way,
By Hermes taught, play'd All the Play.
At The Birth Of An Age
© Robinson Jeffers
V
GUDRUN (standing this side of the closing curtains; 'with Chrysothemis.
Carling has left her, going
Homer's Hymn To The Sun
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once more
To the bright Sun, thy hymn of music pour;
Whom to the child of star-clad Heaven and Earth
Euryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, brought forth;
