Great poems
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The Poetry Of Milton
© George Meredith
Like to some deep-chested organ whose grand inspiration,
Serenely majestic in utterance, lofty and calm,
Interprets to mortals with melody great as its burthen
The mystical harmonies chiming for ever throughout the bright
spheres.
The Wind Of Onset
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WITH potent north winds rushing swiftly down,
Blended in glorious chant, on yester-night
Old Winter came with locks and beard of white.
The hoarfrost glittering on his ancient crown:
The Cross Roads
© Robert Southey
There was an old man breaking stones
To mend the turnpike way,
He sat him down beside a brook
And out his bread and cheese he took,
For now it was mid-day.
Ode To The Setting Sun - Prelude
© Francis Thompson
The wailful sweetness of the violin
Floats down the hush-ed waters of the wind,
The heart-strings of the throbbing harp begin
To long in aching music. Spirit-pined,
When You Meet A Man From Your Own Home Town
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Sing, O Muse, in treble clef,
A little song of the A.E.F.,
All Things Bright And Beauteous
© Cecil Frances Alexander
All things bright and beauteous
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wondrous,
The LORD GOD made them all.
Sonnet LVIII: None Other Fame
© Samuel Daniel
None other fame mine unambitious Muse
Affected ever but t'eternize thee;
The Landing
© Padraic Colum
THE great ship lantern-girdled.
The tender standing by;
The waning stars cloud-shrouded,
The land that we descry!
The Columbiad: Book V
© Joel Barlow
Sage Franklin next arose with cheerful mien,
And smiled unruffled o'er the solemn scene;
His locks of age a various wreath embraced,
Palm of all arts that e'er a mortal graced;
Beneath him lay the sceptre kings had borne,
And the tame thunder from the tempest torn.
Nemesis
© Henry Lawson
It is night-time when the saddest and the darkest memories haunt,
When outside the printing office the most glaring posters flaunt,
When the love-wrong is accomplished. And I think of things and mark
That the blackest lies are written, told, and printed after dark.
Tis the time of late editions. It is night when, as of old,
Foulest things are done for hatred, for ambition, love and gold.
Satire V
© John Donne
Thou shalt not laugh in this leafe, Muse, nor they
Whom any pity warmes; He which did lay
Shakuntala Act VII (Final Act)
© Kalidasa
ACT VII
King Dushyant with Matali in the chariot of Indra (king of gods in heaven and also god of thunder), supposed to be above the clouds.
King Dushyant: I am sensible, O Matali, that, for having executed the commission which Indra gave me, I deserved not such a profusion of honours.
Power
© George MacDonald
Power that is not of God, however great,
Is but the downward rushing and the glare
Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all
© William Shakespeare
Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all,
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
The Mystic Selvagee
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Perhaps already you may know
SIR BLENNERHASSET PORTICO?
Specimen Of Translation From The Ajax Of Sophocles
© James Clerk Maxwell
O had he first been swept away,
Through air by wild winds tossed,
The Night Journey
© Rupert Brooke
Hands and lit faces eddy to a line;
The dazed last minutes click; the clamour dies.
Beyond the great-swung arc o' the roof, divine,
Night, smoky-scarv'd, with thousand coloured eyes
Fragment Of An Ode To Maia. Written On May Day 1818
© John Keats
Mother of Hermes! and still youthful Maia!
May I sing to thee
As thou wast hymned on the shores of Baiae?
Or may I woo thee
Hymn of the City
© William Cullen Bryant
Not in the solitude
Alone may man commune with heaven, or see
Only in savage wood
And sunny vale, the present Deity;
Or only hear his voice
Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice.
The Choice
© Katharine Tynan
When skies are blue and days are bright
A kitchen-garden's my delight,
Set round with rows of decent box
And blowsy girls of hollyhocks.
