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Amen

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

It is over. What is over?
 Nay, now much is over truly!—
Harvest days we toiled to sow for;
 Now the sheaves are gathered newly,
 Now the wheat is garnered duly.

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Mathematics Considered as a Vice

© Anthony Evan Hecht

I would invoke that man

Who chipped for all posterity an ass

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Tone's Grave

© Thomas Osborne Davis

In Bodenstown Churchyard there is a green grave,
And wildly along it the winter winds rave;
Small shelter, I ween, are the ruined walls there,
When the storm sweeps down on the plains of Kildare.

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Caroline Chisholm

© Henry Kendall

THE PRIESTS and the Levites went forth, to feast at the courts of the Kings;
They were vain of their greatness and worth, and gladdened with glittering things;
They were fair in the favour of gold, and they walked on, with delicate feet,
Where, famished and faint with the cold, the women fell down in the street.

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from The Bridge: Southern Cross

© Hart Crane

Whatever call—falls vainly on the wave.
O simian Venus, homeless Eve,
Unwedded, stumbling gardenless to grieve
Windswept guitars on lonely decks forever;
Finally to answer all within one grave!

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Ghoul Care

© Ralph Hodgson

Sour fiend, go home and tell the Pit

For once you met your master, -

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Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part III.

© Henry James Pye

  Arm'd in her cause, on Chalgrave's fatal plain,
  Where sorrowing Freedom mourns her Hambden slain,
  Say, shall the moralizing bard presume
  From his proud hearse to tear one warlike plume,
  Because a Cæsar or a Cromwell wore
  An impious wreath, wet with their country's gore?

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Remembered

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

She sang, and I listened the whole song thro'.
  (It was sweet, so sweet, the singing.)
  The stars were out and the moon it grew
  From a wee soft glimmer way out in the blue
  To a bird thro' the heavens winging.

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Tithonus

© Alfred Tennyson

 Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful
In silence, then before thine answer given
Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek.

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Elegy with a Chimneysweep Falling Inside It

© Larry Levis

Those twenty-six letters filling the blackboard 
Compose the dark, compose
The illiterate summer sky & its stars as they appear 

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The Creature in the Classroom

© Jack Prelutsky

It appeared iinside our classroom

at a quater after ten,

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The Journey

© Grace Fallow Norton

I went upon a journey
To countries far away,
From province unto province
To pass my holiday.

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Getting On

© William Henry Drummond

I know I’m not too young, an' ma back is not as straight

  As it use to be some feefty year ago--

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Thyrsis: A Monody, to Commemorate the Author's Friend, Arthur Hugh Clough

© Matthew Arnold

How changed is here each spot man makes or fills!


  In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same;

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Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament

© Alfred Tennyson

  To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."

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Ellinda's Glove. Sonnet

© Richard Lovelace

  I.
Thou snowy farme with thy five tenements!
  Tell thy white mistris here was one,
  That call'd to pay his dayly rents;
But she a-gathering flowr's and hearts is gone,
And thou left voyd to rude possession.

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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Landlord's Tale; The Rhyme of Sir Christopher

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It was Sir Christopher Gardiner,
Knight of the Holy Sepulchre,
From Merry England over the sea,
Who stepped upon this continent
As if his august presence lent
A glory to the colony.

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from The Bridge: Cutty Sark

© Hart Crane

“I ran a donkey engine down there on the Canal 
in Panama—got tired of that—
then Yucatan selling kitchenware—beads—
have you seen Popocatepetl—birdless mouth 
with ashes sifting down—?
 and then the coast again . . . ”

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The Mother of Three

© Katharine Tynan

Oh, to have a little farm,
  A little hearth so warm and bright,
And three little boys all safe from harm
  In from the winter night!

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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Interlude IV.

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When the long murmur of applause

That greeted the Musician's lay