History poems
/ page 22 of 51 /The Tower of the Dream
© Charles Harpur
But not thus always are our dreams benign;
Oft are they miscreationsgloomier worlds,
Crowded tempestuously with wrongs and fears,
More ghastly than the actual ever knew,
And rent with racking noises, such as should
Go thundering only through the wastes of hell.
The Modern Major-General
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I am the very pattern of a modern Major-Gineral,
I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral;
An Evening Walk
© William Wordsworth
Addressed To A Young Lady
FAR from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
Tale XVI
© George Crabbe
cause -
This creature frights her, overpowers, and awes."
Six weeks had pass'd--"In truth, my love, this
She Sat Alone Beside Her Hearth
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
SHE sat alone beside her hearth
For many nights alone;
She slept not on the pleasant couch
Where fragrant herbs were strewn.
George Chapman:XI
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
HIGH priest of Homer, not elect in vain,
Deep trumpets blow before thee, shawms behind
A Man Doesn't Have Time In His Life
© Yehuda Amichai
A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
The Laurustinus
© James Montgomery
Fair tree of winter! fresh and flowering,
When all around is dead and dry;
A Hidden Life
© George MacDonald
Ah God! when Beauty passes by the door,
Although she ne'er came in, the house grows bare.
Shut, shut the door; there's nothing in the house.
Why seems it always that it should be ours?
A secret lies behind which Thou dost know,
And I can partly guess.
For The Dedication Of The New City Library, Boston
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
PROUDLY, beneath her glittering dome,
Our three-hilled city greets the morn;
Here Freedom found her virgin home,--
The Bethlehem where her babe was born.
The Troubadour. Canto 3
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
But sadness moved him when he gave
DE VALENCE to his lowly grave,--
The grave where the wild flowers were sleeping,
And one pale olive-tree was weeping,--
And placed the rude stone cross to show
A Christian hero lay below.
A Thought of Henry Kendall
© Anonymous
Had I gone first he surely would have writ
Some kindly words in loving memory --
Henry James in the Heart of the City
© Erica Jong
Nothing would surprise him.
The beast in the jungle was what he saw--
Edith Wharton's obfuscating older brother. . .
Une Gravure Fantastique (A Fantastic Engraving)
© Charles Baudelaire
The horseman's flaming sword, as on they rush,
Fells victims that his steed has failed to crush,
And, like a prince inspecting his domain,
He scans the graveyard's limitless chill plain
Where, in a dull white sun's exhausted light,
Lies every race since man emerged from night.
Castles In Spain. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How much of my young heart, O Spain,
Went out to thee in days of yore!
What dreams romantic filled my brain,
And summoned back to life again
The Paladins of Charlemagne,
The Cid Campeador!
Julian and Maddalo : A Conversation
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand
Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand,
Dedication: Sent With The Second Edition Of The Poem To His Majesty The King Of Prussia
© Henry James Pye
Imperial Bard! if while my humble strain
Thy precepts sung to Albion's warlike train,