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/ page 112 of 465 /The Oak And The Broom
© William Wordsworth
A Pastoral
I
HIS simple truths did Andrew glean
Beside the babbling rills;
Le Cygne (The Swan)
© Charles Baudelaire
Andromaque, je pense à vous! Ce petit fleuve,
Pauvre et triste miroir où jadis resplendit
L'immense majesté de vos douleurs de veuve,
Ce Simoïs menteur qui par vos pleurs grandit,
Our HomeOur Country
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
YOUR home was mine,--kind Nature's gift;
My love no years can chill;
In vain their flakes the storm-winds sift,
The snow-drop hides beneath the drift,
A living blossom still.
Concepcion De Arguello
© Francis Bret Harte
Looking seaward, o'er the sand-hills stands the fortress, old and
quaint,
By the San Francisco friars lifted to their patron saint,--
The Golden Boy
© Katharine Tynan
IN times of peace, so clean and bright,
And with a new-washed morning face,
He walked Pall Mall, a goodly sight,
The finished flower of all the race.
The Peacock.
© Mary Barber
Once Juno's Bird (as Authors say)
Was seiz'd on by some Birds of Prey:
They pluck'd his Feathers, one by one,
Till all his useful Plumes were gone;
Stript him of ev'ry thing beside;
But left his Train, to please his Pride.
Wholl Wear the Beaten Colours?
© Henry Lawson
WHOLL WEAR the beaten coloursand cheer the beaten men?
Wholl wear the beaten colours, till our time comes again?
Where sullen crowds are densest, and fickle as the sea,
Wholl wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
The Wife Of Manoah To Her Husband
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Against the sunset's glowing wall
The city towers rise black and tall,
Where Zorah, on its rocky height,
Stands like an armed man in the light.
The Monitions of the Unseen
© Jean Ingelow
Now, in an ancient town, that had sunk low,-
Trade having drifted from it, while there stayed
Too many, that it erst had fed, behind,-
There walked a curate once, at early day.
The Song Of Exile
© Antônio Gonçalves Dias
My homeland has many palm-trees
and the thrush-song fills its air;
no bird here can sing as well
as the birds sing over there.
Lucretius
© Alfred Tennyson
Lucilla, wedded to Lucretius, found
Her master cold; for when the morning flush
Of passion and the first embrace had died
Between them, tho' he loved her none the less,
Extraits
© Donald Justice
There is no way to ease the burden.
The voyage leads on from harm to harm,
A land of others and of silence.
Das Ewig-Weibliche
© James Russell Lowell
How was I worthy so divine a loss,
Deepening my midnights, kindling all my morns?
Why waste such precious wood to make my cross,
Such far-sought roses for my crown of thorns?
The Duke Of Chow Tells Of His Soldiers
© Confucius
To the hills of the East we went,
And long had we there to remain.
When the word of recall was sent,
Thick and fast came the drizzling rain.
The Lord Is His Devotees' Slave
© Sant Surdas
Whatever is a devotee's
caste, clan, family, or name,
Rama's love for him is the same.
In Error
© Rudyard Kipling
They burnt a corpse upon the sand-
The light shone out afar;
It guided home the plunging dhows
That beat from Zanzibar.
Spirit of Fire, where'er Thy altars rise,
Thou art the Light of Guidance to our eyes!
In An Old Garden
© Madison Julius Cawein
The Autumn pines and fades
Upon the withered trees;
And over there, a choked despair,
You hear the moaning breeze.
The Singer In The Prison
© Walt Whitman
O sight of pity, gloom, and dole!
O pardon me, a hapless Soul!