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Look Home
© Robert Southwell
Retired thoughts enjoy their own delights,
As beauty doth in self-beholding eye ;
Man's mind a mirror is of heavenly sights,
A brief wherein all marvels summed lie,
Of fairest forms and sweetest shapes the store,
Most graceful all, yet thought may grace them more.
At Her Window
© Henry Kendall
There, where the plopping of the guttered rain
Sounds like a heavy footstep in the dark,
Where every shadow thrown by flickering light
Seems like her husband halting at the door,
I say a woman sits, and waits, and sits,
Then trims her fire, and comes to wait again.
When The Wind Storms By With A Shout
© William Ernest Henley
When the wind storms by with a shout, and the stern sea-caves
Rejoice in the tramp and the roar of onsetting waves,
Then, then, it comes home to the heart that the top of life
Is the passion that burns the blood in the act of strife -
Till you pity the dead down there in their quiet graves.
To know just how He sufferedwould be dear
© Emily Dickinson
To know just how He sufferedwould be dear
To know if any Human eyes were near
To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze
Until it settle broadon Paradise
The Rock Of Cader Idris
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
I LAY on that rock where the storms have their dwelling,
The birthplace of phantoms, the home of the cloud;
Hymn XVII. Rise royal Sion! rise and sing
© John Austin
Rise royal Sion! rise and sing
Thy souls kind Shepherd, thy harts King:
The Family's Homely Man
© Edgar Albert Guest
And always it's the homely man that happens in to mend
The little toys the youngsters break, for he's the children's friend.
And he's the one that sits all night to watch beside the dead,
And sends the worn-out sorrowers and broken hearts to bed.
The family wouldn't be complete without him night or day,
To smooth the little troubles out and drive the cares away.
Onn Oure Ladies Chyrche
© Thomas Chatterton
AS onn a hylle one eve sittynge,
At oure Ladie's Chyrche mouche wonderynge,
Impromptus
© George Gordon Byron
Along thy sprucest bookshelves shine
The works thou deemest most divine-
The "Art of Cookery,"and mine,
My Murray.
The Moor
© Ralph Hodgson
The world's gone forward to its latest fair
And dropt an old man done with by the way,
Battle Of Charleston Harbor, April 7, 1863
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
TWO hours, or more, beyond the prime of a blithe April day,
The Northmen's mailed "Invincibles" steamed up fair Charleston Bay;
They came in sullen file, and slow, low-breasted on the wave,
Black as a midnight front of storm, and silent as the grave.
An Essay On The Different Stiles Of Poetry
© Thomas Parnell
I hate the Vulgar with untuneful Mind,
Hearts uninspir'd, and Senses unrefin'd.
Hence ye Prophane, I raise the sounding String,
And Bolingbroke descends to hear me sing.
Evangeline: Part The First. III.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
BENT like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean,
Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary public;
"All through the day at my machine"
© Lesbia Harford
All through the day at my machine
There still keeps going
A strange little tune through heart and head
As I sit sewing:
Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part I
© Henry James Pye
By love of opulence and science led,
Now Commerce wide her peaceful empire spread,
And seas, obedient to the pilot's art,
But join'd the regions which they seem'd to part;
Free intercourse disarm'd the barbarous mind,
Tam'd savage hate, and humaniz'd mankind.
A Day At Tivoli - Epilogue
© John Kenyon
Farewell, Romantic Tivoli!
With all thy pleasant out-door time;
For now, again, we cross the sea,
To house us in our northern clime.
The Lady Of Provence
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
"Courage was cast about her like a dress
Of solemn comeliness,
A gathered mind and an untroubled face
Did give her dangers grace." ~ Donne.
Timor Mortis
© John Daniel Logan
'For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother . . . . .
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here.'
