Great poems
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Praise of the Fair Bridges, afterwards Lady Sandes, on Her Having a Scar in Her Forehead
© George Gascoigne
In court whoso demaundes
What dame doth most excell;
For my conceit I must needes say,
Faire Bridges beares the bel.
The Wreck of the Steamer 'London', while on her way to Australia
© William Topaz McGonagall
Then the captain cried, Lower down the small boats,
And see if either of them sinks or floats;
Then the small boats were launched on the stormy wave,
And each one tried hard his life to save
From a merciless watery grave.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 04
© Torquato Tasso
XLI
Guelpho next them the land and place possest,
Niobe
© Alfred Noyes
How like the sky she bends above her child,
One with the great horizon of her pain!
Annunciation
© Muriel Stuart
When to your virgin heart, unstirred, ungiven,
Upon the quiet mountainside untrod,
The sudden naked fire came down from heaven,
Burning you with the very breath of God,
The Phoenix
© George Darley
O Blest unfabled Incense Tree,
That burns in glorious Araby,
With red scent chalicing the air,
Till earth-life grow Elysian there!
An Address to the Steam Washing Company and Letter of Remonstrance from Bridget Jones to the Nobleme
© Thomas Hood
An Address to the Steam Washing Company
"For shamelet the linen alone!" M. W. of Windsor.
Mr. ScrubMr. Slopor whoever you be!
The Hearth Eternal
© Vachel Lindsay
There dwelt a widow learned and devout,
Behind our hamlet on the eastern hill.
Three sons she had, who went to find the world.
They promised to return, but wandered still.
The Illinois Village
© Vachel Lindsay
O you who lose the art of hope,
Whose temples seem to shrine a lie,
Whose sidewalks are but stones of fear,
Who weep that Liberty must die,
Don Juan: Canto The Fifteenth
© George Gordon Byron
Ah!--What should follow slips from my reflection;
Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be
The Two Blackbirds
© George Meredith
A blackbird in a wicker cage,
That hung and swung 'mid fruits and flowers,
Had learnt the song-charm, to assuage
The drearness of its wingless hours.
To the United States Senate
© Vachel Lindsay
And must the Senator from Illinois
Be this squat thing, with blinking, half-closed eyes?
This brazen gutter idol, reared to power
Upon a leering pyramid of lies?
The Drunkards in the Street
© Vachel Lindsay
The Drunkards in the street are calling one another,
Heeding not the night-wind, great of heart and gay,
Publicans and wantons
Calling, laughing, calling,
While the Spirit bloweth Space and Time away.
The Amaranth
© Vachel Lindsay
Ah, in the night, all music haunts me here. . . .
Is it for naught high Heaven cracks and yawns
And the tremendous Amaranth descends
Sweet with the glory of ten thousand dawns?
The Master of the Dance
© Vachel Lindsay
A chant to which it is intended a group of children shall dance and improvise pantomime led by their dancing-teacher.
IA master deep-eyed
Ere his manhood was ripe,
He sang like a thrush,
To The Others
© Katharine Tynan
This was the gleam then that lured from far
Your son and my son to the Holy War:
Your son and my son for the accolade
With the banner of Christ over them, in steel arrayed.
