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© Thomas Love Peacock
I play'd with you 'mid cowslips blowing,
When I was six and you were four;
The Columbiad: Book III
© Joel Barlow
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
Sixteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Wish not, dear friends, my pain away -
Wish me a wise and thankful heart,
With GOD, in all my griefs, to stay,
Nor from His loved correction start.
John Burns Of Gettysburg
© Francis Bret Harte
So raged the battle. You know the rest:
How the rebels, beaten and backward pressed,
Broke at the final charge, and ran.
At which John Burnsa practical man
Shouldered his rifle, unbent his brows,
And then went back to his bees and cows.
Inscription In A Beautiful Retreat Called Fairy Bower
© Hannah More
Airy spirits, you who love
Cooling bower, or shady grove;
Streams that murmur as they flow,
Zephyrs bland that softly blow;
Of The Son of Man
© George MacDonald
I. I honour Nature, holding it unjust
To look with jealousy on her designs;
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
HIS Soul fared forth (as from the deep home-grove
The father-songster plies the hour-long quest),
The Fire-side
© Nathaniel Cotton
Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd,
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
In folly's maze advance;
Tho' singularity and pride
Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside,
Nor join the giddy dance.
Of The Rose Bush
© John Bunyan
This homely bush doth to mine eyes expose
A very fair, yea, comely ruddy rose.
The Two Soldiers
© Thomas Hardy
Just at the corner of the wall
We met - yes, he and I -
Who had not faced in camp or hall
Since we bade home good-bye,
And what once happened came back - all -
Out of those years gone by.
The Rivals; Or The Showman's Ruse
© James Whitcomb Riley
TOMMY (to JOHNNY).
Guess 'at Billy haint got back,--
Can't see nothin' through the crack---
Can't hear nothin' neither--No!
. . . Thinks he's got the dandy show,
Don't he?
Song II
© Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski
Why flatter thyself, Tyrant,
In ways great in evil?
The Lord's goodness ceases not
Keeping watch on the pious.
Odysseus to Telemachus
© Joseph Brodsky
My dear Telemachus,
The Trojan War
is over now; I don't recall who won it.
The Greeks, no doubt, for only they would leave
Eclogue 3: Menalcas Daemoetas Palaemon
© Publius Vergilius Maro
DAMOETAS
Nay, they are Aegon's sheep, of late by him
Committed to my care.
From The Last Hill That Looks On Thy Once Holy Dome
© George Gordon Byron
I.
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,
I beheld thee, Oh Sion! when rendered to Rome:
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
The Old Trundle-Bed
© James Whitcomb Riley
O the old trundle-bed where I slept when a boy!
What canopied king might not covet the joy?
The Water Witch
© Madison Julius Cawein
See! the milk-white doe is wounded.
He will follow as it bounds
Cordelia
© William Michael Rossetti
They turn on her and fix their eyes,
But cease not passing inward;--one
Sneering with lips still curled to lies,
Sinuous of body, serpent-wise;
Her footfall creeps, and her looks shun
The very thing on which they dwell.
The Journey Of Life
© William Cullen Bryant
Beneath the waning moon I walk at night,
And muse on human life--for all around
Are dim uncertain shapes that cheat the sight,
And pitfalls lurk in shade along the ground,
And broken gleams of brightness, here and there,
Glance through, and leave unwarmed the death-like air.