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Nature, For Nature's Sake
© Jean Ingelow
White as white butterflies that each one dons
Her face their wide white wings to shade withal,
Many moon-daisies throng the water-spring.
While couched in rising barley titlarks call,
And bees alit upon their martagons
Do hang a-murmuring, a-murmuring.
Loraine
© George Essex Evans
In her dark-ringed eyes shone the sad unrest
That spoke in the heave of her troubled breast,
And her face was white as the chiselled stone,
And her lips pressed madly against my own,
And her heart beat wildly against my heart,
And we strove to go, but we could not part.
The Burial of Saint Brendan
© Padraic Colum
ON the third day from this (Saint Brendan said)
I will be where no wind that filled a sail
The White Maiden And The Indian Girl
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Child of the Woods, bred in leafy dell,
See the palace home in which I dwell,
With its lofty walls and casements wide,
And objects of beauty on every side;
Now, tell me, dost thou not think it bliss
To dwell in a home as bright as this?
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 02
© Torquato Tasso
XI
Thus when the Lord discovered had, and seen
What I Learned From My Mother by Julia Kasdorf: American Life in Poetry #60 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La
© Ted Kooser
Most of us have taken at least a moment or two to reflect upon what we have learned from our mothers. Through a catalog of meaningful actions that range from spiritual to domestic, Pennsylvanian Julia Kasdorf evokes the imprint of her mother's life on her own. As the poem closes, the speaker invites us to learn these actions of compassion.
On The Proposal To Erect A Monument In England To Lord Byron
© Emma Lazarus
The grass of fifty Aprils hath waved green
Above the spent heart, the Olympian head,
The Discovery
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
THESE are the days of elfs and fays:
Who says that with the dreams of myth,
Amais
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
``O King Amasis, hail!
News from thy friend, the King Polycrates!
My oars have never rested on the seas
A Man Perishing in the Snow: From Whence Reflections are Raised on the Miseries of Life.
© James Thomson
As thus the snows arise; and foul and fierce,
All winter drives along the darken'd air;
In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain
Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend,
To a Skylark
© William Wordsworth
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!
Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
The Poet And The Muse
© Alfred Austin
Whither, and whence, and why hast fled?
Thou art dumb, my muse; thou art dumb, thou art dead,
As a waterless stream, as a leafless tree.
What have I done to banish thee?
Elegiac Stanzas
© William Lisle Bowles
When I lie musing on my bed alone,
And listen to the wintry waterfall;
And many moments that are past and gone,
Moments of sunshine and of joy, recall;
Belgium
© Edith Wharton
Not with her ruined silver spires,
Not with her cities shamed and rent,
Perish the imperishable fires
That shape the homestead from the tent.
The Dirge
© John Le Gay Brereton
Out of the pregnant darkness, where from fire
To glimmering fire the watchword leaps,
The dirge floats up from those who build the pyre
High and still higher
That yet shall blaze across the verminous deeps.
The Spirits of Our Fathers
© Henry Lawson
THE SPIRITS of our fathers rise not from every wave,
They left the sea behind them long ago;
It was many years of slogging, where strong men must be brave,
For the sake of unborn children, and, maybe, a soul to save,
And the end a tidy homestead, and four panels round a grave,
Andthe bones of poor old Someone down below.
