Health poems

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Tristram And Iseult

© Matthew Arnold

 Tristram. Is she not come? The messenger was sure—
Prop me upon the pillows once again—
Raise me, my page! this cannot long endure.
—Christ, what a night! how the sleet whips the pane!
 What lights will those out to the northward be?

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To Wordsworth

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Thine is a strain to read among the hills,
 The old and full of voices;–by the source
Of some free stream, whose gladdening presence fills
 The solitude with sound; for in its course
Even such is thy deep song, that seems a part
Of those high scenes, a fountain from their heart.

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I Cannot Pay That Premium

© Franklin Pierce Adams

Beside a frugal table, though spotless clean and white,
A loving couple they did sit and all seemed pleasant, quite;
They did not have no servant the things away to take,
For he was but a broker who much money did not make.

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The Troubadour. Canto 1

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

There is a light step passing by
Like the distant sound of music's sigh;
It is that fair and gentle child,
Whose sweetness has so oft beguiled,
Like sunlight on a stormy day,
His almost sullenness away.

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Falling Asleep over the Aeneid

© Robert Lowell

An old man in Concord forgets to go to morning service. He falls asleep, while reading Vergil, and dreams that he is Aeneas at the funeral of Pallas, an Italian prince.


The sun is blue and scarlet on my page, 

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Michael: A Pastoral Poem

© William Wordsworth


  Thus in his Father's sight the Boy grew up:
 And now, when he had reached his eighteenth year,
 He was his comfort and his daily hope.

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Lament

© Thom Gunn

Your dying was a difficult enterprise.

First, petty things took up your energies,

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When I Heard At The Close Of The Day

© Walt Whitman


For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in
  the cool night,
In the stillness, in the autumn moonbeams, his face was inclined
  toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast-and that night I was happy.

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... by an Earthquake

© John Ashbery

A, undergoing a strange experience among a people weirdly deluded, discovers the secret of the delusion from Herschel, one of the victims who has died. By means of information obtained from the notebook, A succeeds in rescuing the other victims of the delusion.
A dies of psychic shock.
Albert has a dream, or an unusual experience, psychic or otherwise, which enables him to conquer a serious character weakness and become successful in his new narrative, “Boris Karloff.”

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Thy Better Self

© Jones Very

I AM thy other self, what thou wilt be,

When thou art I, the one seest now;

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HYMNS: My God! I Know, I Feel Thee Mine

© Charles Wesley

1
My God! I know, I feel thee mine,
 And will not quit my claim
Till all I have is lost in thine,
 And all renewed I am.

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Kiama

© Henry Kendall

Towards the hills of Jamberoo

Some few fantastic shadows haste,

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To a Young Poet

© Mahmoud Darwish

Don’t believe our outlines, forget them
and begin from your own words.
As if you are the first to write poetry
or the last poet.

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Orlando Furioso Canto 19

© Ludovico Ariosto

ARGUMENT

Medoro, by Angelica's quaint hand,

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Gareth And Lynette

© Alfred Tennyson

  To whom the mother said,
'True love, sweet son, had risked himself and climbed,
And handed down the golden treasure to him.'

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Thirty-Eight. To Mrs ____y

© Charlotte Turner Smith

In early youth’s unclouded scene,
The brilliant morning of eighteen,
With health and sprightly joy elate,
We gazed on youth’s enchanting spring,
Nor thought how quickly time would bring
The mournful period — thirty-eight!

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Old Spookses' Pass

© Isabella Valancy Crawford

I.

  WE'D camped that night on Yaller Bull Flat,-

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Faringdon Hill. Book II

© Henry James Pye

The sultry hours are past, and Phœbus now

Spreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:

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Ode To The Austrian Socialists

© Stephen Vincent Benet

Let us remember Karl Marx Hof, Goethe Hof,
The one called Matteoti and all the rest.
They were little cities built by people for people.
They were shelled by six-inch guns.
  It is strange to go

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Fragmentary Scenes From The Road To Avernus

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

Scene I
"Discontent"
LAURENCE RABY.