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The Palm-Tree
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
It wav'd not thro' an Eastern sky,
Beside a fount of Araby;
It was not fann'd by southern breeze
In some green isle of Indian seas,
Nor did its graceful shadow sleep
O'er stream of Afric, lone and deep.
Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - Pastorale
© Oliver Goldsmith
CHORUS. -- AFFETTUOSO. -- LARGO.
Ye shady walks, ye waving greens,
Ye nodding towers, ye fairy scenes --
Let all your echoes now deplore
That she who form'd your beauties is no more.
News of War
© Henry Kendall
Today, while yet the rumour filled the street,
I left your faces troubled with the thought
Sausage
© Edgar Albert Guest
You may brag about your breakfast foods you eat at break of day,
Your crisp, delightful shavings and your stack of last year's hay,
An Evening Walk
© William Wordsworth
Addressed To A Young Lady
FAR from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
Home, Wounded
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Wheel me into the sunshine,
Wheel me into the shadow,
There must be leaves on the woodbine,
Is the king-cup crowned in the meadow?
The Hills
© George MacDonald
Behind my father's cottage lies
A gentle grassy height
Up which I often ran-to gaze
Back with a wondering sight,
For then the chimneys I thought high
Were down below me quite!
On Being Blessed By A Child
© Frances Anne Kemble
The voice of childhood blessed meand methought
It sounded like a solemn echo caught
"The Undying One" - Canto II
© Caroline Norton
'Neath these, and many more than these, my arm
Hath wielded desperately the avenging steel--
And half exulting in the awful charm
Which hung upon my life--forgot to feel!
Fragment VI
© James Macpherson
Son of the noble Fingal, Oscian,
Prince of men! what tears run down
the cheeks of age? what shades thy
mighty soul?
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter V
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Griselda's madness lasted forty days,
Forty eternities! Men went their ways,
And suns arose and set, and women smiled,
And tongues wagged lightly in impeachment wild
Deus Misereatur
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
PLEASANT the ways whereon our feet were led,
Sweet the young hills, the valleys of content,
But now the hours of dew and dream have fled.
Lord, we are spent.
Tale XVI
© George Crabbe
cause -
This creature frights her, overpowers, and awes."
Six weeks had pass'd--"In truth, my love, this
The Wantaritencant
© Henry Lawson
IT WATCHED ME in the cradle laid, and from my boyhoods home
It glared above my shoulder-blade when I wrote my first pome;
Its sidled by me ever since, with greeny eyes aslant
It is the thing (O, Priest and Prince!) that wants to write, but cant.
She Sat Alone Beside Her Hearth
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
SHE sat alone beside her hearth
For many nights alone;
She slept not on the pleasant couch
Where fragrant herbs were strewn.
