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The Flowers Of Finae

© Thomas Osborne Davis

Bright red is the sun on the waves of Lough Sheelin,
A cool, gentle breeze from the mountain is stealing,
While fair round its islets the small ripples play,
But fairer than all is the Flower of Finae.

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The Liner

© John Le Gay Brereton

  The foamy waves are swishing
  As patiently we thud,
  But O the wave of wishing
  That surges in my blood!

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The Wanderer From The Fold

© Emily Jane Brontë

How few, of all the hearts that loved,
Are grieving for thee now;
And why should mine to-night be moved
With such a sense of woe?

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Peripeteia

© Anthony Evan Hecht

Of course, the familiar rustling of programs,

My hair mussed from behind by a grand gesture

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A Country Nosegay

© Alfred Austin

Where have you been through the long sweet hours
That follow the fragrant feet of June?
By the dells and the dingles gathering flowers,
Ere the dew of the dawn be sipped by noon.

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The Wanderers

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

Out from her doorway peeped the little maid

To gaze upon the world most full of glee.

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May Song II

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

BETWEEN wheatfield and corn,
Between hedgerow and thorn,
Between pasture and tree,
Where's my sweetheart
Tell it me!

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The Garden

© Charlotte Bronte

Above the city hung the moon,

  Right o'er a plot of ground

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Amours De Voyage, Canto IV

© Arthur Hugh Clough

I have returned and found their names in the book at Como.
Certain it is I was right, and yet I am also in error.
Added in feminine hand, I read, By the boat to Bellaggio.-
So to Bellaggio again, with the words of he writing to aid me.
Yet at Bellaggio I find no trace, no sort of remembrance.
So I am here, and wait, and know every hour will remove them.

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The Cathedral

© James Russell Lowell

Far through the memory shines a happy day,

Cloudless of care, down-shod to every sense,

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I Watch The Ships

© Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton

I WATCH the ships by town and lea

With sails full set glide out to sea,

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Italy : 4. The Great St. Bernard

© Samuel Rogers

Night was again descending, when my mule,
That all day long had climbed among the clouds,
Higher and higher still, as by a stair
Let down from heaven itself, transporting me,

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The Dustman

© Bliss William Carman

'DUSTMAN, dustman!'
Through the deserted square he cries,
And babies put their rosy fists
Into their eyes.

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The Maid of Gerringong

© Henry Kendall

Rolling through the gloomy gorges, comes the roaring southern blast,

With a sound of torrents flying, like a routed army, past,

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A Song of Honour

© Ralph Hodgson

I climbed a hill as light fell short,

And rooks came home in scramble sort,

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Marcus Varro

© Eugene Field

Marcus Varro went up and down
  The places where old books were sold;
He ransacked all the shops in town
  For pictures new and pictures old.

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On The Receipt Of My Mother's Picture Out Of Norfolk

© William Cowper

Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thine—thy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me

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An Ember Picture

© James Russell Lowell

How strange are the freaks of memory!
  The lessons of life we forget,
While a trifle, a trick of color,
  In the wonderful web is set,--

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Verses, To William Lyttleton, Esq.

© William Shenstone

How blithely pass'd the summer's day!
How bright was every flower!
While friends arrived in circles gay,
To visit Damon's bower!

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An Essay on Man: Epistle II

© Alexander Pope

  Superior beings, when of late they saw
A mortal Man unfold all Nature's law,
Admir'd such wisdom in an earthly shape,
And showed a Newton as we shew an Ape.