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To Will H. Low
© Robert Louis Stevenson
This is unborn beauty: she
Now in air floats high and free,
Takes the sun and breaks the blue;--
Late with stooping pinion flew
At Dawn
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
The dawn is here! I climb the hill;
The earth is young and strangely still;
A tender green is showing where
But yesterday my fields were bare. . . .
I climb and, as I climb, I sing;
The dawn is here, and with it - spring!
At Night
© Alice Meynell
Home, home from the horizon far and clear,
Hither the soft wings sweep;
Flocks of the memories of the day draw near
The dovecote doors of sleep.
Christmas, 1918
© Edgar Albert Guest
They give their all, this Christmastide, that peace on earth shall reign;
Upon the snows of Flanders now, brave blood has left its stain;
With ribbons red we deck our gifts; theirs bear the red of pain.
Ode IV: To The Honourable Charles Townshend In The Country
© Mark Akenside
I. 1.
How oft shall i survey
249. Sappho Redivivus: A Fragment
© Robert Burns
BY all I lovd, neglected and forgot,
No friendly face eer lights my squalid cot;
Shunnd, hated, wrongd, unpitied, unredrest,
The mockd quotation of the scorners jest!
The Beauteous Terrorist
© Sir Henry Parkes
Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.
The Whaups (To S R Crockett)
© Robert Louis Stevenson
BLOWS the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying
Blows the wind on the moors to-day and now,
251. Impromptu Lines to Captain Riddell
© Robert Burns
My goose-quill too rude is
To tell all your goodness
Bestowd on your servant, the Poet;
Would to God I had one
Like a beam of the sun,
And then all the world, sir, should know it!
The Pang More Sharp Than All. An Allegory
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
He too has flitted from his secret nest,
Hope's last and dearest child without a name!--
Has flitted from me, like the warmthless flame,
83. The Cotters Saturday Night
© Robert Burns
MY lovd, my honourd, much respected friend!
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friends esteem and praise:
Velocity Of Money
© Allen Ginsberg
Im delighted by the velocity of money as it whistles through the windows
of Lower East Side
The Old Professor
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
See, there he goes, a-pulling his long beard;
With frowning brow, and far and absent gaze,
Canada To England
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
O little isle our fathers held for home,
Not, not alone thy standards and thy hosts
Lead where thy sons shall follow, Mother Land:
Quick as the north wind, ardent as the foam,
Behold, behold the invulnerable ghosts
Of all past greatnesses about thee stand.
April Byeway
© Edmund Blunden
Friend whom I never saw, yet dearest friend,
Be with me travelling on the byeway now
The Suliote Mother
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
She stood upon the loftiest peak,
Amidst the clear blue sky,
A bitter smile was on her cheek,
And a dark flash in her eye.
Hospital Duties
© Anonymous
Fold away all your bright-tinted dresses,
Turn the key on your jewels today,
I Have A Hundred Lives
© Sri Aurobindo
I have a hundred lives before me yet
To grasp thee in, O Spirit ethereal,
Be sure I will with heart insatiate
Pursue thee like a hunter through them all.
