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At The Fall Of An Age
© Robinson Jeffers
(The story of Achilles rising from the dead for love of Helen
is well enough known. That of Polyxo's vengeance may be less
The Lord of the Isles: Canto IV.
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced
Hes Gone to England for a Wife
© Henry Lawson
HES GONE to England for a wife
Among the ladies there;
A Parson's Letter To A Young Poet
© Jean Ingelow
They said: "We, rich by him, are rich by more;
One Aeschylus found watchfires on a hill
That lit Old Night's three daughters to their work;
When the forlorn Fate leaned to their red light
And sat a-spinning, to her feet he came
And marked her till she span off all her thread.
Parvenu
© Vachel Lindsay
Where does Cinderella sleep?
By far-off day-dream river.
A secret place her burning Prince
Decks, while his heart-strings quiver.
Breitmann In Belgium. Spa.
© Charles Godfrey Leland
VHEN sommer drees shake fort deir leafs,
Ash maids shake out deir locks,
Und singen mit de rifulets,
Vitch ripplen round de rocks,
Ferdinando and Elvira
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Then we let off paper crackers, each of which contained a motto,
And she listened while I read them, till her mother told her not
to.
To The Don
© Alexander Pushkin
Through the Steppes, see there he glances!
Silent flood glad hailed by me,--
Thy far distant sons do proffer
Through me, greeting fond to thee!
The Last Tournament
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'
November In Ireland
© Alice Guerin Crist
November days in Ireland
The skies are dull and grey,
But Oh! The clear strong flame of love,
That burns by night and day.
As swift and bright the whispered prayers fly to the Heavens O'erhead,
From faithful hearts in Ireland, remembering their dead.
To Children: For Tyrants
© George Meredith
Strike not thy dog with a stick!
I did it yesterday:
Not to undo though I gained
The Paradise: heavy it rained
On Kobold's flanks, and he lay.
To Lamartine
© James Russell Lowell
I did not praise thee when the crowd,
'Witched with the moment's inspiration,
Vexed thy still ether with hosannas loud,
And stamped their dusty adoration;
I but looked upward with the rest,
And, when they shouted Greatest, whispered Best.
Marmion: Introduction to Canto VI.
© Sir Walter Scott
Heap on more wood! the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
London - in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal
© Samuel Johnson
'--Quis ineptae
Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?' ~ Juv.
Phantoms
© Madison Julius Cawein
This was her home; one mossy gable thrust
Above the cedars and the locust trees:
This was her home, whose beauty now is dust,
A lonely memory for melodies
The wild birds sing, the wild birds and the bees.
The Death Of President Lincoln
© Joseph Furphy
Now let the howling tempest roar
For Booth can feel its force no more;
Now let the captors bend their steel
Against the form that cannot feel
Their tyranny has spent its hour
And Booth is far beyond their power.
Never Bite A Married Woman On The Thigh
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Never bite a married woman on the thigh oh my
Cause she just can't rub it off no matter how she'll try
And when she gets home at night her man will ask her why
Then she'll say it's just a birthmark or some other silly lie
Trafalgar Square
© Robert Fuller Murray
These verses have I pilfered like a bee
Out of a letter from my C. C. C.
In London, showing what befell him there,
With other things, of interest to me
