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© William Shakespeare
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - June
© George MacDonald
1.
FROM thine, as then, the healing virtue goes
The Two Graves
© William Cullen Bryant
Two low green hillocks, two small gray stones,
Rose over the place that held their bones;
But the grassy hillocks are levelled again,
And the keenest eye might search in vain,
'Mong briers, and ferns, and paths of sheep,
For the spot where the aged couple sleep.
The Slaves Of Martinique
© John Greenleaf Whittier
BEAMS of noon, like burning lances, through the tree-tops flash and glisten,
As she stands before her lover, with raised face to look and listen.
Dark, but comely, like the maiden in the ancient Jewish song:
Scarcely has the toil of task-fields done her graceful beauty wrong.
The American Forest Girl
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
They loos'd the bonds that held their captive's breath;
From his pale lips they took the cup of death;
They quench'd the brand beneath the cypress tree;
"Away," they cried, "young stranger, thou art free!"
Sonnet LXI
© William Shakespeare
Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
The Huskers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
IT was late in mild October, and the long autumnal rain
Had left the summer harvest-fields all green with grass again;
The first sharp frosts had fallen, leaving all the woodlands gay
With the hues of summer's rainbow, or the meadow flowers of May.
Artegal And Elidure
© William Wordsworth
WHERE be the temples which, in Britain's Isle,
For his paternal Gods, the Trojan raised?
Sunday In The Country
© Edgar Albert Guest
SUNDAY in the country that's how we spent the day,
Drinking in the perfume of the fragrant breath of May;
Gazing at the splendors of the meadows and the hills,
Laughing with the babbling brooks and singing with the rills,
Dancing with the sunbeams and smiling with the skies,
And worshiping the Master with our hearts and minds and eyes.
The Shepherd's Calendar - September
© John Clare
Harvest awakes the morning still
And toils rude groups the valleys fill
On Dante's Monument, 1818
© Giacomo Leopardi
Though all the nations now
Peace gathers under her white wings,
Ave Maria
© Alfred Austin
In the ages of Faith, before the day
When men were too proud to weep or pray,
Good Luck
© Edgar Albert Guest
Good luck! That's all I'm saying, as you sail across the sea;
The best o' luck, in the parting, is the prayer you get from me.
May you never meet a danger that you won't come safely through,
May you never meet a German that can get the best of you;
Oh! A thousand things may happen when a fellow's at the front,
A thousand different mishaps, but here's hoping that they won't.
Farewell to the Plague Spirit
© Mao Zedong
So many green and blue hills, but to what avail?
This tiny creature left Hua Tuo powerless!
Sonnet CIX
© William Shakespeare
O, never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify.
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:
Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing
© William Shakespeare
Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate,
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
An Octopus
© Marianne Clarke Moore
of ice. Deceptively reserved and flat,
it lies "in grandeur and in mass"