Great poems
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The Dance To Death. Act I
© Emma Lazarus
This play is dedicated, in profound veneration and respect, to the
memory of George Eliot, the illustrious writer, who did most among
the artists of our day towards elevating and ennobling the spirit
of Jewish nationality.
Italy : 43. The Bag Of Gold
© Samuel Rogers
I dine very often with the good old Cardinal * * and, I
should add, with his cats; for they always sit at his table,
and are much the gravest of the company. His beaming
countenance makes us forget his age; nor did I ever see
To Dorothy Wellesley
© William Butler Yeats
STRETCH towards the moonless midnight of the trees,
As though that hand could reach to where they stand,
A Mixed Battle Song
© Henry Lawson
Lo! the Boars tail is salted, and the Kangaroos exalted,
And his right eye is extinguished by a man-o-warsmans cap;
To William Wordsworth
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Friend of the Wise ! and Teacher of the Good !
Into my heart have I received that Lay
More than historic, that prophetic Lay
Wherein (high theme by thee first sung aright)
The Lime-tree Bower my Prison [Addressed to Charles Lamb, o
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,
This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost
Beauties and feelings, such as would have been
Most sweet to my remembrance even when age
Part of the Dialogue Between Hector and Andromache
© Samuel Johnson
She ceas'd; then godlike Hector answer'd kind -
(His various plumage sporting in the wind)
The Nightingale
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.
Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!
Two Visions
© Alfred Austin
The curtains of the Night were folded
Over suspended sense;
So that the things I saw were moulded
I know not how nor whence.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
My childhood, then, had passed a mystery
Shrouded by death, my boyhood a shut thing.
The passion of my soul as it grew free
With growing youth, a bird with broken wing,
The Captivity
© Oliver Goldsmith
FIRST PROPHET.
AIR.
Our God is all we boast below,
To him we turn our eyes;
And every added weight of woe
Shall make our homage rise.
Fears In Solitude
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
[Image][Image][Image][Image][Image] May my fears,
My filial fears, be vain ! and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy
Pass like the gust, that roared and died away
In the distant tree : which heard, and only heard
In this low dell, bowed not the delicate grass.
The Song Of Life
© George Essex Evans
Sing thou of Toil,
Of toil that moulds to-day the larger morrow!
Move with stout heart on Lifes great battle-field
And wear the motto Progress on thy shield.
All that is best is won through toil and sorrow.
Sing thou of Toil!
Banner Of Men Who Were Free
© Edgar Lee Masters
Flag of the great republic, banner of men who were free!
Carried aloft for freedom in many a bloody gorge;
Torn by the shot of tyrants in battle by land and sea,
The rallying hope of our fathers by Valley Forge.
Floods
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In the dark night, from sweet refreshing sleep
I wake to hear outside my window-pane
The uncurbed fury of the wild spring rain,
And weird winds lashing the defiant deep,
I Knew A Man By Sight
© Henry David Thoreau
In a more distant place
I glimpsed his face,
And bowed instinctively;
Starting he bowed to me,
Bowed simultaneously, and passed along.
My Word!
© Edgar Albert Guest
You can tyke h'it from me, 'e's as cool as a cucumber,
Never goes balmy h'or loses 'is 'ead,
Prayer
© Henry David Thoreau
That my weak hand may equal my firm faith
And my life practice what my tongue saith
That my low conduct may not show
Nor my relenting lines
That I thy purpose did not know
Or overrated thy designs.
Friendship
© Henry David Thoreau
I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.
To Roosevelt {1}
© Rubén Dario
You are strong, proud model of your race;
you are cultured and able; you oppose Tolstoy.
You are an Alexander-Nebuchadnezzar,
breaking horses and murdering tigers.
(You are a Professor of Energy,
as current lunatics say).
