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Evening

© Annie McCarer Darlington

'Tis Evening! soul enchanting hour,
And queenly silence reigns supreme;
A shade is cast o'er lake and bower,
All nature sinks beneath the power
Of sweet oblivion's dream.

The Kindergarten Miss

© Edgar Albert Guest

The little kindergarten miss,

Source of all my joy and bliss,

Youth In Memory

© George Meredith

Days, when the ball of our vision

Had eagles that flew unabashed to sun;

Sumner

© John Greenleaf Whittier

O Mother State! the winds of March
Blew chill o'er Auburn's Field of God,
Where, slow, beneath a leaden arch
Of sky, thy mourning children trod.

The Battle of Sempach

© Sir Walter Scott

'Twas when among our linden-trees
The bees had housed in swarms,
(And grey-hair'd peasants say that these
Betoken foreign arms),

The Crusader's Return

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Rest pilgrim, rest!-thou'rt from the Syrian land,

Thou'rt from the wild and wondrous east, I know

A Meditation Of St. Eligius

© George MacDonald

Queen Mary one day Jesus sent
To fetch some water, legends tell;
The little boy, obedient,
Drew a full pitcher from the well;

The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.

The Bethlehem Nursing Home by Rodney Torreson: American Life in Poetry #25 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Lau

© Ted Kooser

Emily Dickinson said that poems come at the truth at a slant. Here a birdbath and some overturned chairs on a nursing home lawn suggest the frailties of old age. Masterful poems choose the very best words and put them in the very best places, and Michigan poet Rodney Torreson has deftly chosen "ministers" for his first verb, an active verb that suggests the good work of the nursing home's chaplain.

By The Seaside : The Building Of The Ship

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

On the deck another bride
Is standing by her lover's side.
Shadows from the flags and shrouds,
Like the shadows cast by clouds,
Broken by many a sunny fleck,
Fall around them on the deck.

An Uninscribed Monument on One of the Battle-Fields of the Wilderness

© Herman Melville

Silence and solitude may hint

(Whose home is in yon piney wood)

Garden

© John Greenleaf Whittier

O painter of the fruits and flowers,
We own wise design,
Where these human hands of ours
May share work of Thine!

The Man of Sentiment

Part One
[A walled garden of York. It is an August Sunday, and the baying of deep church-bells is blown faintly in a warm wind. Laurence Sterne, prebendary, aged forty-six, and Catherine de Fromantel, a girl who sings at Ranelagh, are dawdling through the arbours, and pause at a path which runs between hedges and cypress-trees round a corner some fifty yards away. Catherine has walked down such a path before, it is to be feared, and halts cautiously upon its fringes.]
Laurence:
Nay, 'tis no Devil's walk,

Homer's Battle Of The Frogs And Mice. Book III

But down Olympus to the Western Seas,
Far-shooting Phbus drove with fainter Rays,
And a whole War (so Jove ordain'd) begun,
Was fought, and ceas'd, in one revolving Sun.

Sonnet To The White-Bird Of The Tropic

BIRD of the Tropic! thou, who lov'st to stray

Where thy long pinions sweep the sultry Line,

Peter Bell The Third

Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.