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Properzia Rossi
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Tell me no more, no more
Of my soul's lofty gifts! Are they not vain
Colin Clouts Come Home Againe
© Edmund Spenser
Colin Clouts Come Home Againe
THe shepheards boy (best knowen by that name)
Give Me Freshening Breeze, My Boys
© Louisa May Alcott
'Give me freshening breeze, my boys,
A white and swelling sail,
The Restoration Of The Works Of Art In Italy
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Vain dream! degraded Rome! thy noon is o'er,
Once lost, thy spirit shall revive no more.
It sleeps with those, the sons of other days,
Who fix'd on thee the world's adoring gaze;
Those, blest to live, while yet thy star was high,
More blest, ere darkness quench'd its beam, to die!
The North Sea -- First Cycle
© Heinrich Heine
Once through heaven went shining,
Wedded and one,
Luna the Goddess, and Sol the God,
And the stars in multitudes thronged around them,
Their little, innocent children.
A Hungry Day
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
I MIND him well, he was a quare ould chap,
Come like meself from swate ould Erin's sod;
He hired me wanst to help his harvest in-
The crops was fine that summer, praised be God!
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
At such a time indeed of youth's first morn,
There is a heaving of the soul in pain,
A mighty labour as of joys unborn,
Which grieves it and disquiets it in vain.
By Hut, Homestead And Shearing Shed,
© Henry Lawson
By hut, homestead and shearing shed,
By railroad, coach and track-
By lonely graves where rest the dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
To where beneath the clustered stars
The dreamy plains expand-
Arcady
© Edgar Albert Guest
Where is the road to Arcady,
Where is the path that leads to peace,
Where shall I find the bliss to be,
Where shall the weary wanderings cease?
These are the questions that come to me,
Where is the road to Arcady?
Holyday
© Emily Jane Brontë
A LITTLE while, a little while,
The noisy crowd are barred away;
And I can sing and I can smile
A little while I've holyday!
Wishing
© William Allingham
Ring-Ting! I wish I were a Primrose,
A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the spring!
The stooping boughs above me,
The wandering bee to love me,
The fern and moss to creep across,
And the Elm tree for our king!
The Memory Of Burns
© John Greenleaf Whittier
How sweetly come the holy psalms
From saints and martyrs down,
Le Marais Du Cygne
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A BLUSH as of roses
Where rose never grew!
Great drops on the bunch-grass,
But not of the dew!
The Sea Witch
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
ENDLESSLY fell her chestnut flowers,
Faint snow throughout the honeyed dark;
The myrtle spread his boughs to drink
Deep draughts of salt from the sea's brink,
And like a moon-dial swung her tower's
Straight shadow o'er her warded park.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - July
© George MacDonald
1.
ALAS, my tent! see through it a whirlwind sweep!
Thoughts On A Still Night
© Li Po
Before my bed, the moon is shining bright,
I think that it is frost upon the ground.
I raise my head and look at the bright moon,
I lower my head and think of home.
The Strength Of Fields
© James Dickey
What field-forms can be,
Outlying the small civic light-decisions over
A man walking near home?
Men are not where he is
Exactly now, but they are around him around him like the strength
From The Song of Hiawatha
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Death of Minnehaha
ALL day long roved Hiawatha
