History poems

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Words

© Nizar Qabbani

He lets me listen, when he moves me,

Words are not like other words

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The Tower of the Dream

© Charles Harpur

But not thus always are our dreams benign;
Oft are they miscreations—gloomier 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.

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The Modern Major-General

© William Schwenck Gilbert

I am the very pattern of a modern Major-Gineral,

I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral;

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An Evening Walk

© William Wordsworth

Addressed To A Young Lady

FAR from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove

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A Song Of Painting: To General Cao Ba

© Du Fu

You, General Cao Ba,

  descendant of Cao Cao,

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Carmen Seculare For The Year 1800

© Henry James Pye

I.

  Incessant down the stream of Time

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Tale XVI

© George Crabbe

cause -
This creature frights her, overpowers, and awes."
Six weeks had pass'd--"In truth, my love, this

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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.

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George Chapman:XI

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

HIGH priest of Homer, not elect in vain,

  Deep trumpets blow before thee, shawms behind

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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.

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The Laurustinus

© James Montgomery

Fair tree of winter! fresh and flowering,

When all around is dead and dry;

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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.

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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.

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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.

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A Thought of Henry Kendall

© Anonymous

Had I gone first he surely would have writ

  Some kindly words in loving memory --

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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. . .

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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.

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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!

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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,

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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,