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Unpublished Poem II

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

WHENEVER you meet with a man from home

Who laughs at the falls and the fences here,

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America

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

Men say, Columbia, we shall hear thy guns.

But in what tongue shall be thy battle-cry?

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St. Louis: A Song Of The City

© Edgar Albert Guest

I was in St. Louis when their mystic Prophet came
From his dark, mysterious haunts to gaze upon the throngs.
None had ever seen his face and none could tell his name.
Yet they greeted him with cheers and welcomed him with songs.

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The Transvaal Contingent

© Anonymous

From Bluff to Cape Maria New Zealand is agreed;
She thanks her Representatives for generous thought and deed.
She turns with joy from squabbles - from Party's petty aim -
To feel she still has statesman well worthy of the name.

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The House of Christmas

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

There fared a mother driven forth


Out of an inn to roam;

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The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The Third

© Mark Akenside

See! in what crouds the uncouth forms advance:
Each would outstrip the other, each prevent
Our careful search, and offer to your gaze,
Unask'd, his motley features. Wait awhile,
My curious friends! and let us first arrange
In proper order your promiscuous throng.

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Down-Hall. A Ballad.

© Matthew Prior

I sing not old Jason who travell'd through Greece
To kiss the fair maids and possess the rich fleece,
Nor sing I AEneas, who, led by his mother,
Got rid of one wife and went far for another.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.

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Epilogue

© Paul Verlaine

I
The sun, less hot, looks from a sky more clear;
The roses in their sleepy loveliness
Nod to the cradling wind. The atmosphere
Enfolds us with a sister's tenderness.

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The Letters

© Alfred Tennyson

Still on the tower stood the vane,

A black yew gloomed the stagnant air,

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The Sailor, Who Had Served In The Slave Trade.

© Robert Southey

He stopt,--it surely was a groan
  That from the hovel came!
  He stopt and listened anxiously
  Again it sounds the same.

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The Faithful Guardian

© Caroline Norton

Two beautiful and rosy babes are pictured here alone,
Two infants of a noble race, as any near the throne:--
And, in the cradle's shadow, lies a stately-looking hound,
His fine limbs full of strength and grace, couched humbly on the ground:

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A Dream In A Gondola

© Richard Monckton Milnes

I had a dream of waters: I was borne
Fast down the slimy tide
Of eldest Nile, and endless flats forlorn
Stretched out on either side,--

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Eight Sunday After Trinity

© John Keble

Prophet of God, arise and take
With thee the words of wrath divine,
  The scourge of Heaven, to shake
  O'er yon apostate shrine.

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To Mother Venus

© Eugene Field

O mother Venus, quit, I pray,
  Your violent assailing!
The arts, forsooth, that fired my youth
  At last are unavailing;
My blood runs cold, I'm getting old,
  And all my powers are failing.

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Memories Of The Pacific Coast

© Alfred Noyes

I know a land, I, too,
  Where warm keen incense on the sea-wind blows,
And all the winter long the skies are blue,
  And the brown deserts blossom with the rose.

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Nineteen Nine

© Henry Lawson

There's  a light out there in the nearer east

  In the dawn of Nineteen Nine;

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Georgic 3

© Publius Vergilius Maro

Thee too, great Pales, will I hymn, and thee,

Amphrysian shepherd, worthy to be sung,

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The Island: Canto III.

© George Gordon Byron

I.

The fight was o'er; the flashing through the gloom,

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My Beth

© Louisa May Alcott

Sitting patient in the shadow

  Till the blessed light shall come,

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The Swagman and His Mate

© Henry Lawson

I hope they’ll find the squatter “white”,
  The cook and shearers “straight”,
When they have reached the shed to-night—
  The swagman and his mate.