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Book Eleventh: France [concluded]
© William Wordsworth
But indignation works where hope is not,
And thou, O Friend! wilt be refreshed. There is
One great society alone on earth:
The noble Living and the noble Dead.
Sunset On The Bearcamp
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A gold fringe on the purpling hem
Of hills the river runs,
As down its long, green valley falls
The last of summer's suns.
The Seeker
© Roderic Quinn
GOOD People, by your fires to-night
Sit close and praise the red, red wood!
The wind is cold, the moon is white;
With me who wander 'tis not well; it is not well, but God is good.
The Delectable Day
© Charles Kingsley
The boy on the famous gray pony,
Just bidding good-bye at the door,
Plucking up maiden heart for the fences
Where his brother won honour of yore.
Sonnet LXXXVII: Death's Songsters
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
When first that horse, within whose populous womb
The birth was death, o'ershadowed Troy with fate,
Nature And Art. To My Friend Charles Booth Nettleton
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I.
THE young queen Nature, ever sweet and fair,
Dirge
© Charles Stuart Calverley
"Dr. Birch's young friends will reassemble to-day, Feb. 1st."
White is the wold, and ghostly
The dank and leafless trees;
And 'M's and 'N's are mostly
The Comedian
© Edgar Albert Guest
Whatever the task and whatever the risk, wherever
the flag's in air,
When the Bear Comes Back Again
© Henry Lawson
Oh, the scene is wide an dreary an the sun is settin red,
An the grey-black sky of winters comin closer overhead.
Humanity
© Charles Harpur
I dreamed I was a sculptor, and had wrought
Out of a towering adamantine crag
Elegy IV
© Rainer Maria Rilke
O trees of life, oh, what when winter comes?
We are not of one mind. Are not like birds
The Exiles' Line
© Rudyard Kipling
Twelve knots an hour, be they more or less -
Oh slothful mother of much idleness,
Whom neither rivals spur nor contracts speed!
Nay, bear us gently! Wherefore need we press?
In The British Museum
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Shafts of light, that poured from the August sun,
Glowed on long red walls of the gallery cool;
Fell upon monstrous visions of ages gone,
Still, smiling Sphinx, winged and bearded Bull.
Little Libbie
© Julia A Moore
One more little spirit to Heaven has flown,
To dwell in that mansion above,
Where dear little angels, together roam,
In God's everlasting love.
The Labyrinth
© Henry King
Life is a crooked Labyrinth, and we
Are daily lost in that Obliquity.
'Tis a perplexed circle, in whose round
Nothing but sorrows and new sins abound.
Foreign Lands
© Henry Lawson
Here we slave the dull years hopeless for the sake of Wool and Wheat
Here the homes of ugly Commerceniggard farm and haggard street;
Yet our mothers and our fathers won the life the heart demands
Less than fifty years gone over, we were born in Foreign Lands.
