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/ page 143 of 465 /To Mrs. King, On Her Kind Present To The Author, A Patchwork Counterpane Of Her Own Making
© William Cowper
The Bard, if e'er he feel at all,
Must sure be quickened by a call
Both on his heart and head,
To pay with tuneful thanks the care
And kindness of a lady fair
Who deigns to deck his bed.
Alfred. Book II.
© Henry James Pye
He ceasedbut still the accents of his tongue
Persuasive, on the attentive hearers hung:
The monarch and his warlike thanes around
Still listening sat, in silent wonder bound.
Wings In The Night
© Katharine Tynan
Now in the soft spring midnight
There's rush of wings and whirr,
Birds flying softly, swiftly;
The night's a-flutter, a-stir.
Banalata Sen
© Jibanananda Das
I remember her hair dark as night at Vidisha,
Her face an image of Sravasti as the pilot,
Undone in the blue milieu of the sea,
Never twice saw the earth of grass before him,
I have seen her, Banalata Sen of Natore.
The Two Lovers Of Heaven: Chrysanthus And Daria - Act I
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Chrysanthus is seen seated near a writing table on which are several
books: he is reading a small volume with deep attention.
The Turtle And Sparrow. An Elegiac Tale
© Matthew Prior
Stretch'd on the bier Columbo lies,
Pale are his cheeks, and closed his eyes;
Those eyes, where beauty smiling lay,
Those eyes, where Love was used to play;
Ah! cruel Fate, alas how soon
That beauty and those joys are flown!
The Church Of Brou
© Matthew Arnold
Down the Savoy valleys sounding,
Echoing round this castle old,
'Mid the distant mountain-chalets
Hark! what bell for church is toll'd?
When dey 'Listed Colored Soldiers
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Dey was talkin' in de cabin, dey was talkin' in de hall;
But I listened kin' o' keerless, not a-t'inkin' 'bout it all;
Where Are The Temperance People? In Reply To A Query
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Where are the temperance people?
All scattered here and there,
Sowing the seeds of righteous deeds,
That the harvest may be fair.
The Bastard
© Richard Savage
Is chance a guilt? that my disastrous heart,
For mischief never meant; must ever smart?
Can self-defence be sin?-Ah, plead no more!
What though no purposed malice stained thee o'er?
Had Heaven befriended thy unhappy side,
Thou hadst not been provoked-or thou hadst died.
Poem 15
© Kabir
LAMPS burn in every house, O blind one! and you cannot see them.
One day your eyes shall suddenly be opened, and you shall see: and the fetters of death will fall from you.
There is nothing to say or to hear, there is nothing to do: it is he who is living, yet dead, who shall never die again.
England
© William Wilfred Campbell
ENGLAND, England, England,
Girdled by ocean and skies,
And the power of a world, and the heart of a race,
And a hope that never dies.
Consolation
© Harriet Beecher Stowe
Ah, many-voiced and angry! how the waves
Beat turbulent with terrible uproar!
Is there no rest from tossing, - no repose?
Where shall we find a haven and a shore?
The Castle In Austria
© Clemens Maria Brentano
There lies a castle in Austria,
Right goodly to behold,
Walled tip with marble stones so fair,
With silver and with red gold.
Written From Dublin, To A Lady In The Country.
© Mary Barber
A wretch, in smoaky Dublin pent,
Who rarely sees the Firmament,
You graciously invite, to view
The Sun's enliv'ning Rays with you;
To change the Town for flow'ry Meads,
And sing beneath the sylvan Shades.
Poets Corner
© Alfred Austin
I stand within the Abbey walls,
Where soft the slanting sunlight falls
In gleams of mellow grace:
The organ swells, the anthem soars,
And waves of prayerful music pours
Throughout the solemn space.