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My Frost-King - Song II
© Louisa May Alcott
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The Overlander
© William Henry Ogilvie
I knew them on the road : red, roan, and white,
Cock-horned and spear-horned, spotted, streaked and starred;
I knew their shapes moon-misted in the night
As I rode round them keeping lonely guard.
I knew them all, the laggards and the leaders,
The wild, the wandering, and the listless feeders.
A Song for the New Year {1915}
© Katharine Tynan
THE Year of the Sorrows went out with great wind:
Lift up, lift up, O broken hearts, your Lord is kind,
And He shall call His flock home where no storms be
Into a sheltered haven out of sound of the sea.
Sordello: Book the Sixth
© Robert Browning
The thought of Eglamor's least like a thought,
And yet a false one, was, "Man shrinks to nought
How We Beat The Favourite
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
A Lay of the Loamshire Hunt Cup
"Aye, squire," said Stevens, "they back him at evens;
The race is all over, bar shouting, they say;
The Clown ought to beat her; Dick Neville is sweeter
Than ever - he swears he can win all the way.
Marching Feet
© Katharine Lee Bates
THESE August nights, hushed but for drowsy peep
Of fledglings, tremble with a strange vibration,
The Rock-Tomb Of Bradore
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A DREAR and desolate shore!
Where no tree unfolds its leaves,
There'll be no one in the house...
© Boris Pasternak
There'll be no one in the house
Save for twilight. All alone,
Winter's day seen in the space that's
Made by curtains left undrawn.
The Branded Hand
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WELCOME home again, brave seaman! with thy thoughtful brow and gray,
And the old heroic spirit of our earlier, better day;
With that front of calm endurance, on whose steady nerve in vain
Pressed the iron of the prison, smote the fiery shafts of pain!
The Young Knight: A Parable
© Charles Kingsley
A gay young knight in Burley stood,
Beside him pawed his steed so good,
His hands he wrung as he were wood
With waiting for his love O!
St. Andrew's Day
© John Keble
When brothers part for manhood's race,
What gift may most endearing prove
To keep fond memory its her place,
And certify a brother's love?
Pride
© William Henry Drummond
Ma fader he spik to me long ago,
"Alphonse, it is better go leetle slow,
To My Eldest Brother, With The British Army In Portugal
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Does memory's pencil oft, in mellowing hue,
Dear social scenes, departed joys renew;
In softer tints delighting to retrace,
Each tender image and each well-known face?
Yes! wanderer, yes! thy spirit flies to those,
Whose love unalter'd, warm and faithful glows!
A Song Of Two Burdens
© Alfred Noyes
The round brown sails were reefed and struggling home
Over the glitter and gloom of the angry deep:
Dark in the cottage she sang, "Soon, soon, he will come,
Dreamikin, Drowsy-head, sleep, my little one, sleep."
Sudden Chorus Of The Slain Warriors Is Heard From On High
© George Borrow
From the heavenly, clear, invisible, home
Our voices come:
A Farm Walk
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
The year stood at its equinox
And bluff the North was blowing,
A bleat of lambs came from the flocks,
Green hardy things were growing;
I met a maid with shining locks
Where milky kine were lowing.
An Essay on Man: Epistle 1
© Alexander Pope
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke
Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things
To One Who Would Make A Confession
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh! leave the past to buy its own dead.
The past is naught to us, the present all.
What need of last year's leaves to strew Love's bed?
What need of ghosts to grace a festival?
Lines On Hearing, Three Or Four Years Ago, That Constantinople Was Swallowed Up By An Earthquake;
© Amelia Opie
A Report, though false, at that time generally believed.
