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465

On The Plains

© George Essex Evans

Half-lost in film of faintest lawn,

A single star in armour white

Friend to the Muse and all her train,
For thee i court the Muse again:
The Muse for thee may well exert
Her pomp, her charms, her fondest art,
Who owes to thee that pleasing sway
Which earth and peopled heaven obey.

Dreaming In The Trenches

© William Gordon McCabe

I picture her there in the quaint old room,
Where the fading fire-light starts and falls,
Alone in the twilight's tender gloom
With the shadows that dance on the dim-lit walls.

The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7

© Publius Vergilius Maro

AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,

Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;

Camptown Races

© Stephen C. Foster

De Camptown ladies sing dis song -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Camptown racetrack five miles long -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin -- Oh! doo-dah day!

The Kiss --- English Translation

© Rabindranath Tagore

Two pairs of lips

Seem to whisper into each others ears

The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me

© James Whitcomb Riley

Uncle Sidney, when he wuz here,
Maked me a squirtgun out o' some
Elder-bushes 'at growed out near
Where wuz the brickyard--'way out clear
To where the toll-gate come!

My Memory's Care

© Owen Suffolk

Sing not to me a song of beauty bright,
Nor festive scenes of dazzling light;
Nor of gorgeous pageant in palace hall
Begemmed with many a coronal;
But sing to me my memory's care -
The misspent hours fled where - oh where?

OGradys Little Girl

© Alice Guerin Crist

Her hair was dark and curly, floatin to the saddle bow,
Her laugh was frank and girlish, and her voice was sweet and low;
When I was one-and-twenty, sure my heart was in a whirl,
Ridin neath the blossomed gum-trees with OGradys little girl.

Don Juan: Canto The Second

© George Gordon Byron

Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,

Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,

Italy : 41. An Adventure

© Samuel Rogers

Three days they lay in ambush at my gate,
Then sprung and led me captive. Many a wild
We traversed; but Rusconi, 'twas no less,
Marched by my side, and, when I thirsted, climbed

Discovery

© Madison Julius Cawein

What is it now that I shall seek
Where woods dip downward, in the hills?-
A mossy nook, a ferny creek,
And May among the daffodils.

Bayard Taylor

© John Greenleaf Whittier

I.

"And where now, Bayard, will thy footsteps tend?"

To John Milton

© John Clare

Poet of mighty power, I fain
Would court the muse that honoured thee,
And, like Elisha's spirit, gain
A part of thy intensity;
And share the mantle which she flung
Around thee, when thy lyre was strung.

Written At Sea

What is my quarrel with thee, beautiful sea,
That thus I cannot love thy waves or thee,
Or hear thy voice but it tormenteth me?

Fragment: Sufficient Unto The Day

Is not to-day enough? Why do I peer
Into the darkness of the day to come?
Is not to-morrow even as yesterday?
And will the day that follows change thy doom?

"Now all the lovely days are past"

Now all the lovely days are past,
The hours of sun and leagues of sea,
And starry nights that lay between
Yourself and me.

Invocation

I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veil'd from waking thought; conjured
Eternity, as men constrain a ghost
To appear and answer. ~ WORDSWORTH.