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/ page 230 of 465 /the arrival of spring (cathe waller)
© Rg Gregory
on the last day of winter i went to bed
harsh winds rainstorms beating my head
houses trees with a sucked-out look
new year flaked from the old one's hook
Experience
© Jane Taylor
--A COSTLY good ; that none e'er bought or sold
For gem, or pearl, or miser's store, twice told :
Save certain watery pearls, possessed by all,
Which, one by one, may buy it as they fall.
Of these, though precious, few will not suffice,
So slow the traffic, and so large the price !
Abolition Of Slavery In The District Of Columbia, 1862
© John Greenleaf Whittier
When first I saw our banner wave
Above the nation's council-hall,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 01 - Proem
© Lucretius
Mother of Rome, delight of Gods and men,
Dear Venus that beneath the gliding stars
Only A Dream
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
METHOUGHT I saw thee yesternight
Sit by me in the olden guise,
The white robes and the pain foregone,
Weaving instead of amaranth crown
A web of mortal dyes.
The Grave
© Robert Blair
While some affect the sun, and some the shade,
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying through life;the task be mine,
to the seaside
© Rg Gregory
to the seaside
to the seaside
to the change and peace of mind
to the easy la-
zy holiday
the leave-it-all-behind
the rest home
© Rg Gregory
professor piebald
(the oldest man in the home) was meek
at the same time ribald
he clothed his matter (so to speak)
daft icarus
© Rg Gregory
it began as a secret desire (an itch
in the marrow too vague to get through
to the bone) an idea that never could
make it as flesh - there wasn't a part of me
Oxford
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
OVER, the four long years! And now there rings
One voice of freedom and regret: Farewell!
Now old remembrance sorrows, and now sings:
But song from sorrow, now, I cannot tell.
Young Blood
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"But, sir," I said, "they tell me the man is like to die!" The Canon shook his head indulgently. "Young blood, Cousin," he boomed. "Young blood! Youth will be served!"
-- D'Hermonville's Fabliaux.
He woke up with a sick taste in his mouth
And lay there heavily, while dancing motes
Benedetta Minelli
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
IT is near morning. Ere the next night fall
I shall be made the bride of heaven. Then home
To my still marriage chamber I shall come,
And spouseless, childless, watch the slow years crawl.
The Cause
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of these throes that search and sear
What is it so deep arises in us
Above the shaken thoughts of fear,--
Whatever thread the Fates may spin us,--
Above the horror that would drown
And tempest that would strike us down?
The Drug-Shop, or, Endymion in Edmonstoun
© Stephen Vincent Benet
No herbage broke the barren flats of land,
No winds dared loiter within smiling trees,
Nor were there any brooks on either hand,
Only the dry, bright sand,
Naked and golden, lay before the seas.
The City Revisited
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Nothing was gone, nothing was changed,
The smallest wave was unestranged
By all the long ache of the years
Since last I saw them, blind with tears.
Their welcome like the hills stood fast:
And I, I had come home at last.
M'Andrew's Hymn
© Rudyard Kipling
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it so - exceptin' always Steam.
From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see Thy Hand, O God -
Predestination in the stride o' yon connectin'-rod.
Old Tin Liz
© Alice Guerin Crist
We have scrubbed, and scoured and polished, till she's looking just like new,
And her good old engines singing, and our hearts are singing too,
While the magpies pipe a chorus, and the air's like a sparkling fizz.
And we're going to the races in the Old Tin Liz.
Sir Barnaby Bampton Boo
© William Schwenck Gilbert
This is SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Last of a noble race,