History poems
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The Task: Book V. -- The Winter Morning Walk
© William Cowper
Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb
Ascending, fires the horizon; while the clouds,
The Picture Of Sappho
© Caroline Norton
FAME, to thy breaking heart
No comfort could impart,
In vain thy brow the laurel wreath was wearing;
One grief and one alone
Could bow thy bright head down--
Thou wert a WOMAN, and wert left despairing!
To Christian Gottfried Ehrenberg
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FOR HIS "JUBILAEUM" AT BERLIN, NOVEMBER 5, 1868
THOU who hast taught the teachers of mankind
Some Account Of A New Play
© Richard Harris Barham
Tavistock Hotel, Nov. 1839.
Dear Charles,
- In reply to your letter, and Fanny's,
Lord Brougham, it appears, isn't dead,- though Queen Anne is;
'Twas a 'plot' and a 'farce'- you hate farces, you say -
Take another 'plot,' then, viz. the plot of a Play.
How To Not Settle It
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I LIKE, at times, to hear the steeples' chimes
With sober thoughts impressively that mingle;
But sometimes, too, I rather like--don't you?--
To hear the music of the sleigh bells' jingle.
Black Sampson Of Brandywine
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
"In the fight at Brandywine, Black Samson, a giant negro armed with
a scythe, sweeps his way through the red ranks...." C. M. Skinner's
"_Myths and Legends of Our Own Land_."
Moore
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
He sings the heroic tales of old
When Ireland yet was free,
Of many a fight and foray bold,
And raid beyond the sea.
Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth
© George Gordon Byron
I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
Filipinos, Remember Us
© Edgar Lee Masters
You, if it fall to you to take
From us the lamp that Athens gave,
Fill it with mercy for our sake,
And light us gently to the grave.
Connecticut
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
That crouches at their feet, a conquered wave;
'Tis a rough land of earth, and stone, and tree,
Where breathes no castled lord or cabined slave;
Pastorals
© George Meredith
How sweet on sunny afternoons,
For those who journey light and well,
To loiter up a hilly rise
Which hides the prospect far beyond,
And fancy all the landscape lying
Beautiful and still;
"Nest ce pas quil est doux,"
© Charles Baudelaire
Is it not pleasant, now we are tired,
and tarnished, like other men, to search for those fires
in the furthest East, where, again, we might see
mornings new dawn, and, in mad history,
hear the echoes, that vanish behind us, the sighs
of the young loves, God gives, at the start of our lives?
England And Spain
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Illustrious names! still, still united beam,
Be still the hero's boast, the poet's theme:
So when two radiant gems together shine,
And in one wreath their lucid light combine;
Each, as it sparkles with transcendant rays,
Adds to the lustre of its kindred blaze.
Elegy With A Bridle In Its Hand
© Larry Levis
One was a bay cowhorse from Piedra & the other was a washed out palomino
And both stood at the rail of the corral & both went on aging
In each effortless tail swish, the flies rising, then congregating again
Amours De Voyage, Canto V
© Arthur Hugh Clough
Pisa, they say they think, and so I follow to Pisa,
Hither and thither inquiring. I weary of making inquiries.
I am ashamed, I declare, of asking people about it.-
Who are your friends? You said you had friends who would certainly know them.
Negro Heroines
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Down in history we find it and in grandest works of art,
How the men on fields of battle play so well the soldier's part,
But I come to tell the story of relief from care and pain
Rendered them by Negro women in the Cuban War with Spain.
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =First Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
TANS. The enthusiasms most suitable to be first brought forward and
considered are those that I now place before you in the order that seems
to me most fitting.
AThe Anniverse. AN ELEGY.
© Henry King
So soon grown old! hast thou been six years dead?
Poor earth, once by my Love inhabited!
And must I live to calculate the time
To which thy blooming youth could never climbe,
